



ill 




OF 







JAMES W, NICHOLSON 




Class_/^^7l/ 



GopightN?. 



COPyRIGHT DEPOSm 




Nick when a little boy 



STORIES OF DIXIE 



JAMES W. NICHOLSON, A.M.. LL.D. 

PROFESSOR OF MATHEMATICS 
LOUISIANA STATE UNIVERSITY 




AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 
NEW YORK CINCINNATI CHICAGO 






Copyright, 1915, by 

James W. Nicholson, 

All rights reserved 

NICHOLSON, STORIES OF DIXIE 
E. P. I 



oi 



©C1.A411989 



DEDICATION 

One of the wisest and most beautiful acts 

related in this book 

is that referred to by Governor McEnery 

in the conclusion of the story of the Gee Place: 

*' When Doctor Egan and my father died 

their sons came together 

and agreed not to prolong the feud of their fathers„ 

Accordingly, the matter was dropped and forgotten, 

and there are now 

no warmer friends in the state 

than the sons of those two good men." 

THE CHILDREN 
OF THOSE WHO WORE THE BLUE 

and 

THE CHILDREN 
OF THOSE WHO WORE THE GRAY, 

in pursuing the same wise and patriotic course, 
have given to the nation's history 

ITS MOST GLORIOUS CHAPTER. 

To these sons and daughters, 

NORTH AND SOUTH, 

this little labor of love 

IS DEDICATED. 



PREFACE 

This book is made up of true stories about Dixie — 
stories of people and conditions. In it there are no excesses 
and no fanciful creations, whether of persons or affairs. 
Its aim is to instruct and entertain by portraying, simply 
and truthfully, real things and happenings in Dixie. 

If the history of the South be regarded as a building this 
book aims to be the vestibule thereof, and the attempt has 
been made so to construct and furnish it that those who 
enter therein may be incited to go on into the building 
itself. Should it be thought that too much is said of 
trifles the reply would be: (1) the book is intended mainly 
for young people; and (2) one has a lopsided knowledge of 
the people of Dixie who knows nothing of their jokes and 
sports. 

A quasi biography of "Nick" runs through the book. 
While true, as far as it goes, its purpose is chiefly me- 
chanical. It is somewhat of a path winding its way 
through a forest from which the necessary bearings are 
taken to draw a map of the tract. Around it are woven the 
"stories of Dixie" pretty much as the gems and jewels of a 
crown are entwined about the skeleton frame that holds 
them in order, continuity, and perspective. 

The white people of the South are generally homoge- 
neous as to manners, habits, and ideals. They sprang 
from a common ancestry and have been molded by like 
means and agencies. Probably the section which was most 

6 



PREFACE 7 

representative of the whole South in 1860 was North 
Louisiana. At that time it was the last section settled, 
and its healthful climate, fertile lands, and abundant 
timber, fish, and game attracted settlers from all parts of 
the South. It was Dixie in a nutshell, and for this reason 
it is made the scene of many of the stories. 

This book had its origin in two suggestions, one coming 
from a northern and the other from a southern source: 

In the early spring of 1913 the author, while dining with 
Dr. W. T. H. Howe, of Cincinnati, O., attempted to en- 
tertain him with stories of the South. The doctor's ap- 
preciation of the narratives was such that he suggested 
the writing and publishing of them in book form. 

About the same time The Daily Picayune, of New 
Orleans, having referred very approvingly to a communi- 
cation from Dr. Van Dyke to the children of New Jersey, 
suggested a message from the present writer to the children 
of Louisiana. 

The author wishes to thank most heartily his colleague 
Hugh Mercer Blain, Ph.D., Professor of English, who has 
read the manuscript and offered many helpful suggestions. 

In retraveling, as it were, the long voyage described 
in this book the author has been accompanied by his 
daughter, Mrs. A. P. Daspit, and to him she has been a 
cheering and helpful companion,— a motor and a rudder. 
Among other things she has often reminded him of the 
two old maxims: "The secret of being tiresome is in telling 
everything," and "The most completely lost of all days is 
that on which one has not laughed." 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER PAGE 

I. The Story of a Typical Settler 11 

Cane Ridge 11 

Events and stories 19 

Good dogs, a coon hunt, and a fight 23 

Nick and the Cardinal 28 

An old-time school 30 

A hunt, a whir, a rustle, and a stampede 35 

II. The Story of the Pioneers 41 

The Atlantic slope 41 

Growth of the colonies 45 

The call of the West 48 

The westward movement 51 

An illustration of the westward movement 55 

III. The Story of a Westward Move 59 

More elbow room 59 

Off for Louisiana 61 

New Orleans Then and Now 64 

Up the Red River 71 

IV. The Story of a Typical Neighborhood. . . 83 

Uncle Wash moves from Cane Ridge. ... 83 

Progressive Development 88 

The Forest Grove School 98 

V. The Story of a Typical Section 104 

Typical of Dixie 104 

Two good signs 105 

The Gee Place 106 

A peaceful and jjrosperous land 114 

Religion and churches . 117 

Introducing Oat 120 

Homer College 125 

8 



CONTENTS 9 

CHAPTER PAGE 

VI. The Story of the Beginning of the War. . 133 

The irrepressible conflict 133 

Nick goes to war 134 

Camp Moore 143 

VII. The Story of Events of the War 152 

Minor incidents 152 

A fish story 157 

A Confederate scout 160 

Stories of Oat 163 

An interrupted oration 169 

The Confederate x\rmy starts for Ten- 
nessee 176 

A student soldier 179 

A perilous adventure 183 

General Sherman and Colonel Boyd 186 

VIII. The Story of the Close of the War 193 

Cheerful endurance 193 

Closing scenes 195 

The fortunes of an old flag 200 

The curtain falls on a scene both sad and 

droll 203 

IX. The Story of the Homeward Tramp 206 

The remnant starts home 206 

A great southern leader 208 

An old-time southern aristocrat 210 

A few great Georgians 214 

A long and jolly ride 222 

More surprises 226 

The Gulf and its chief tributary 229 

The home stretch 235 

APPENDIX 242 



STORIES OF DIXIE 

CHAPTER I 
THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 

Cane Ridge 




A long time ago four sturdy oxen were drawing a 
heavy wagon through the valleys and over the hills 
of northern Louisiana. There was, here and there, 
the semblance of a road winding its w^ay through the 
forest and connecting the crude homes of the settlers 
who had entered these wilds and broken their long 
silence with the ax and the gun. Uncle Nathan, 
driver of the team, often found it necessary to stop 

11 



12 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 



and remove a log or tree top from the path, or cut a 
way around a deep and rugged washout. 

Never did one look upon a lovelier land; at least, 
so thought Uncle Wash, who rode on horseback ahead 
of his wagon to select the best route and lead Uncle 
Nathan along the way of least 
resistance. To him a charming 
feature of the country was that 
it was so little defaced and de- 
filed by man's habitation. There 
was a profusion of wild flowers, 
great and splendid trees, and 
rich valleys separated by gentle 
swells which now and then rose 
to the dignity of hills. Springs 
of clear, pure water spouted 
from the hillsides, and numer- 
ous brooks, fed from these foun- 
tain heads, ran down the valleys 
and flowed with a cheerful mur- 
ii'p^ nmr through the land. Along 
W'^10^^^ the creeks, formed by the join- 

/r j [ ^=^^"- ing of these branches, were nu- 

w^^,_ merous swamps varying 

in width from a few rods 
to half a mile. 

To one who has no 





CANE RIDGE 13 

great love of the wilds these swamps would have 
had a dismal aspect, owing to their murky bayous, 
the dark shadows of the luxuriant woods, and 
the rank growths of vines and cane. Not so with 
Uncle Wash. Even the gaunt cypress knees, which 
stood like ghosts in the muddy lowlands, were as at- 
tractive to him as the graceful pines on the hills or 
the white dogwood blossoms in the valleys. 

Two years before the scene here described Uncle 
Wash had moved from Alabama to Louisiana. On 
reaching this new, and to him unknown, land he 
thought best to select a temporary site, and prepare 
hasty quarters in which he and his might live until 
he could look about and find a choice locality for his 
permanent home. This had been done, and he was 
now moving from the first place to the site of the 
second one. The party consisted of himself. Aunt 
Martha (his wife), his little children, and a few slaves, 
among whom were Uncle Nathan and Aunt Kitty 
(the cook). Late one summer afternoon the movers 
arrived at the point where their new home was to be 
established. 

In the center of the new locality was a hill of me- 
dium size, crowned by a flat tract of about six acres. 
The east side of the hill sloped down to a clear branch 
that flowed at its base; the west side dipped down 
more abruptly to a rich plateau that extended to a 



14 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 

pretty stream called Cane Creek; and the north and 
south sides slanted down more gently to rich valleys. 
It was a wild and romantic-looking place. On the hill 
and in the valleys were great trees — oak, ash, hickory, 
elm, pine, beech, gum — and in the swamps grew 
many cypresses; in the midst of all were growths of 
ironwood, dogwood, maple, chinquapin, holly and 
witch-hazel. Here and there were networks of grape 
and muscadine vines so dense that the sun seldom 
shone through them. Large reed-canes covered the 
valleys, and a smaller kind, called switch-cane, ex- 
tended far up the hillsides. 

Having reached the end of their rough journey, the 
movers dismounted and began hasty preparations 
for the night. While the men were feeding the stock 
and providing temporary quarters, the women were 
busy cooking the evening meal. Although only hoe- 
cake, fried venison, and coffee formed this frugal 
repast, yet seldom has a more elegant and bountiful 
one been so thoroughly enjoyed. As slice after slice 
of the meat was fried, the savory odor caused all to 
realize how hungry they were. What a stimulus to 
hearty eating is life in the woods! 

The next morning Uncle Wash stood on the hill, 
viewed the prospect, and formed his plans. "I will 
build my houses," said he, "on the top of this hill, 
where my family and negroes will be above the 



CANE RIDGE 



15 



O 



malaria of the lowlands; I will build my barns, horse- 
lot, and cowpen on the gentle slope by the branch, 
where the stock will always have plenty of water; I 
will plant my garden on the rich plateau at the foot 
of the hill on the other side; and I will have my fields 
in the fertile valleys on the north and south sides." 

There was much hard work to be done. Houses 
were to be built, lands cleared, rails split, and fences 
made; and many other things of more or less im- 
portance had to be attended to. 
Among the most urgent of the 
many needs were houses to live in. 
So the building of cabins was at 
once begun. There being no lum- 
ber mills in the country, these 
dwellings were made of the halves 
of round pine logs, notched at the 
ends so that they would lie close 
together. The small 
cracks between the 
pieces were lined on 
the inside with 
boards and chinked 
on the outside with 
a kind of mortar 
made of clay and 
straw. 




16 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 

At least a part of these huts was first-class, and 
that was the roof. Cypress trees were plentifuL 
A choice one was selected, felled, and sawed into 
short cuts. From these cuts the sapwood was 
removed and the remaining heartwood split into 
bolts, which were rived into boards by means of a 
froe. The cabins were covered with these boards. 
A roof so made has been known to last "three score 
years and ten." 

The next work of importance was opening and 
fencing the fields, and putting them in a state of til- 
lage. Where a wilderness of goodly trees had over- 
spread the ground there was soon naught but black- 
ened stumps, and along the wooded border of the 
bright sunny opening was a strong worm fence ten 
rails high. With the plowing of the land came the 
blackbird and the bluebird, whose merry chirping 
seemed to be attuned to the bracing odor of the fresh 
upturned soil. 

On the farm and garden and about the house and 
yard there was something for every one to do. Men, 
women, and children, white and black, worked from 
dawn to dark. It was a hive in which there were no 
drones. All hands arose in the morning, as Uncle 
Wash ordered, *'by times." 

Breakfast and supper were prepared and eaten by 
the light of a "suet lamp." This old-time lamp is 



CANE RIDGE 



17 



entitled t o 
more than a 
passing no- 
tice. The 
only means 
the settlers 
had of ob- 
taining lights 
were with 
pine knots, 
lightwood , 

and grease. The kind of 
grease most used by the 
pioneers was a crude oil taken from 
the fat of bears. A saucer or tin plate 
was filled with the grease, and into 
it was dropped a cord with one end protruding. 
The exposed end was lighted, and served as the wick 
of a candle. This outfit, often called a suet lamp, 
being better than anything of the kind the settlers 
had ever seen, was thought by them to "just fill the 
bill." When beef tallow and nuitton suet became 
more plentiful than bear's oil, one of these was used 
instead of the latter. In the march of progress the 
suet lamp was followed by "molded tallow" candles, 
and these by "store-bought star" candles, which, in 
time, gave place to coal oil lamps. The latter came 




<3.«g^-tia^\ 



18 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 



into use in that section soon after the close of the 
Civil War. 

A smokehouse was a necessary part of every set- 
tler's home. In it meat of all kinds was cured and 
kept. It had no floor. On the 
"dirt floor," as it was called, a 
fire was made and kept burning 
day and night, but it was so 
smothered that it burned slowly, 
producing little fire and much 
smoke. The smoke cured the 
meat, and I doubt whether there 
has ever been any way of mak- 
ing sweeter meat. If you have 
never eaten smoked bacon or 
sausage you have missed, ac- 
cording to Uncle Nathan, " de nex 
bes' thing to possum and taters." 
A great deal of salt was wasted in curing meat, and 
this was absorbed by the dirt floor on which it 
fell. Thus, in the course of years, this ground be- 
came a very good salt mine. During the Civil War, 
when salt became scarce, many Southern families 
dug up the ground floors of their old smokehouses 
and obtained enough salt from the dirt to tide them 
over the hour of need. This was an instance in which 
waste proved to be "bread cast upon the waters." 





Nick as a soldier 



EVENTS AND STORIES 19 

As soon as Uncle Wash had the time and means he 
built larger and more comfortable houses. In front 
of the cabin occupied by the whites he erected a very 
creditable residence, and the cabin thus vacated was 
fitted up for a kitchen and dining room. 

In the course of time other settlers came, and with 
this growth in population and means the roads were 
improved and the streams bridged. After a while the 
towns of Homer and Farmerville, the county seats of 
two adjoining parishes, were founded. Uncle Wash 
helped to plan and make the road joining these 
towns. It ran by his home, and when a mail route 
was put on it a post office was located in his house. 
For this office he suggested the name of Cane Ridge, 
and it still goes by that name. 

Events and Stories 

Uncle Wash had the gifts and arts of a good woods- 
sportsman. He was a tireless walker and sat a horse 
as if he were a part of it. With an innate love of 
trapping and fowling, fishing and hunting, few sur- 
passed him in the use of the gun and the fishing 
rod, and fewer still in the art of making and setting 
traps and nets. He was divided between love of 
fields and love of swamps, with the greater inclina- 
tion toward swamps. The prospects of abundant 

STORIES OF DIXIE, — 2 



^0 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 




crops and abundant sports were 
equally well pleasing to him. 

As to manner and matter the fol- 
lowing is typical of conversations 
held at Cane Ridge: 

"My dear," said Aunt Martha to 
Uncle Wash, "the meat is about out, 
and you will have to take your gun 
and obtain some from the woods." 

"Can't do it, Martha; can't do it. 
Too busy now," said he. 
Uncle Wash liked to be urged to do the very thing 

he most desired to do, especially to hunt. He wished 

people to think that he never neglected his duties 

on the farm for the pleasures and spoils of the woods. 

But he did not fool Aunt 

Martha; she knew he was al- 
ways anxious to get into the 

woods with his gun and dogs. 

However, she never seemed 

to doubt his sincerity. So 

now she said, 

"I know you are quite 

busy, my dear, but neither 

you nor the hands can work 

very long without something 

to eat." 




EVENTS AND STORIES 21 

"The hands," said he, "are now doing a certain 
work, and if I leave them they will either do it wrong 
or not do it at all. Really you had better feed us all 
on scraps to-morrow." 

He took his hat and started toward the door. But, 
seeing that Aunt Martha was not going to urge him 
further he stopped and said, 

"It has just occurred to me, Martha, that I have to 
go in the woods soon to select some rail timber, and by 
going now I might kill two birds with the same stone. 
What kind of game do you wish, large or small .^" 

"As you wish to get back to your work as soon as 
possible, we can make out with a few birds or squir- 
rels; and these you can get near by." 

"While I am at it," said he, "I might just as well 
get enough to last some time." 

He went, and in a few hours returned for Nathan; 
he needed him to help bring home probably a deer 
and a gobbler. 

In the course of time Uncle Wash had a number of 
cows and hogs, and they throve on the rich food they 
obtained in the range. The cows were milked in the 
cowpen by Aunt Kitty, and there was enough butter, 
buttermilk or "clabber" to supply both whites and 
blacks. Just before " hog-killing time " the hogs were 
"stall-fed"; that is, they were penned and fed on 
corn. This made the meat sweet. 



THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 




As night came on the 

stock would leave the 

woods, come home, and 

sleep under the trees around 

the yard. Even some of 

the hogs which had be- 
come wild in the woods 

would do this to protect 

themselves and their young 

ones from the wolves and a ^ 

bears. Some animals seem hj^f^j 

to show great foresight in •^'' 

this way. A mother deer 

will leave her young fawn 

in the bushes near a public road, knowing that 

bears and wolves are not likely to go near where 

men travel. 

One day Uncle Wash went into the woods to look 

after some of his wild hogs. Just as he reached a 

bend in the path along which he was riding he met 

a panther. The beast was not more than twenty 

feet away. It at once 
crouched and began to 
wag its tail, which is the 
- - habit of the panther 
when about to spring on 
its prey. Uncle Wash 







GOOD DOGS, A COON HUNT, AND A FIGHT 23 

usually went well armed, but at this time he had 
only his great bowie knife. He knew that with this 
he could cleave the animal's head if he got a fair 
chance, but he did not wish to run the risk of getting 
such a chance. 

Wild animals seldom attack a man except when 
driven to it by hunger or in self-defense. As a rule 
they are more afraid of a man than he is of them. 
Uncle Wash knew this, and adopted the hunter's 
method of cowering the beast by outstaring it. With 
his knife in his hand he and the panther gazed mutely 
but intently into each other's eyes. Finally the 
animal glanced to one side as if looking for a safe 
place of retreat; then the rider suddenly spurred his 
horse and it leaped toward the panther. This so 
frightened the wild beast that it scampered off into 
the woods as fast as it could go. 

Good Dogs, a Coon Hunt, and a Fight 

Uncle Wash was fond of dogs, and all dogs liked 
him on a very short acquaintance. He would walk 
boldly into a yard, seemingly not noticing the fierce 
dogs that threatened to attack him, and right in the 
face of the angry animals he would squat down 
quietly and in a low and jovial tone say: "Howdy do, 
boys! How are you all to-day.'^ Come up and let's 



24 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 




talk it over." At first they 
looked at him as if they thought he was 
crazy; but soon they were his friends. 
One of his sayings was, "You can 
1^ always tie to the man that loves a 

dog." Every stray dog in the " regions around " 
would come to him, and he was never known to 
turn one away. However poor and no-account the 
dog was on its arrival, it was soon changed into a 
fat, useful, and " genteel " dog. Uncle Wash was 
never without a number of good dogs — hunting dogs 
and watchdogs. The barking of these faithful senti- 
nels at night gave every one, even the cows and 
hogs, a feeling of safety. It is mostly in pioneer life 
that one comes to love and value a good dog. 



GOOD DOGS, A COON HUNT, AND A FIGHT 25 

Early one morning Uncle Wash and Uncle Nathan 
went into the fields to kill some coons that were 
destroying the young corn growing near the swamps. 
Uncle Wash took his gun and Uncle Nathan his ax. 

"Now, Nathan," said Uncle Wash, "the only dogs 
we need are Rouse, Bull, and Step." 

The first two were large and strong and the third 
was an active heavy-built fice. All were stalwart and 
valiant, and eager for a fray with a coon or a panther. 
Rouse, especially, was the hero of many a well-fought 
battle. 

They came to a point in the field where there was 
a dense canebrake just outside. The dogs roused 
something and chased it off through the canebrake. 
"That is no coon or bear," said Uncle Wash. "It is 
a wildcat, a catamount, or a panther." 

It is strange how an old hunter can tell from the 
way his dogs chase an animal what kind of animal 
it is. In a short time the yelping of the dogs was 
changed to a deep-mouthed baying. "They have 
treed it," said Uncle Wash, "and we must go to them 
at once." 

They climbed over the fence and plunged into the 
canebrake. Uncle Nathan went ahead, and bent or 
cut the cane so that they could pass through. At last 
they came to an open glade, in the center of which 
was a large hollow cypress log, and in this the beast 



26 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 




had taken refuge. Step was staring into the hollow 
log and growling. The hair on his back stood straight 
up, and he had braced himself as if for a battle. 
Uncle Wash patted him on the back and said, "Sick 
'em, boy," and into the log Step went. There was at 
once the rumble of a severe tussle — gnashing, biting, 
and scratching. Poor Step! He soon came out, and 
with gashes on his head and neck he looked up sadly 
into his master's face and seemed to say: "I can't 
whip him by myself." 

"I thought so," said Uncle Wash, **it is a cat- 
amount." 

Now a catamount is like a wildcat, but much 
larger, stronger, and fiercer. Nathan then cut a hole 
in the top of the log, and it happened to be just over 



GOOD DOGS, A COON HUNT, xVND A FIGHT 27 

the animars neck. Uncle Wash, hoping to have some 
fun, cut a forked stick, straddled it over the beast, 
and threw his weight upon it. But the cat was so 
strong it slipped from under the stick and came 
boldly out of the log. Step nabbed it first, probably 
knowing that he was not now to fight the battle 
alone. 

In an instant Rouse and Bull flew to Step's aid, 
and the fight was on. Round and round, over and 
over they went, growling and biting, scratching and 
gnashing. The great cat slashed with its long claws 
and bit with its sharp teeth, rending the hides and 
tearing the flesh of the dogs. But the dogs had strong 
jaws and long teeth, a courage that knew no fear, 
and nerves that would stand all pain. They gave a 
bite for a scratch and a gash for every wound. xAt 
last the cat, getting a good chance, leaped again into 
the hollow log. 

Now the cat might have been killed with the gun 
or the ax; but Uncle Wash, like all sportsmen, pre- 
ferred to see "the fight to a finish." So he told old 
Nathan to split open the old shell. This done, the 
cat made a great leap to a near-by tree, but before it 
could ascend, the dogs seized it and dragged it to the 
ground. The fight was renewed with vigor and 
ferocity. Rouse fought to reach the cat's neck and 
the cat fought to defend it. Rouse won, seized the 



28 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 

vital spot, and sank his teeth deep into the cat's 
throat. That was the last of the fight. 

Nick and the Cardinal 

Nowhere are birds more numerous or more beau- 
tiful than in Louisiana, and nowhere are their notes 
richer or their songs sweeter. Many of them come 
every springtime as old friends returning from ram- 
bles in foreign lands, and many others here live and 
die, — helpful and cheering neighbors no less in De- 
cember than in May. Among these latter is the 
redbird, or cardinal. Perched on a twig in the garden 
it is easily mistaken for a brilliant poinsettia. Alert 
and erect, graceful and strong, with its martial notes 
resembling those of a fife, it is fittingly known as the 
cardinal. In no other small creature are the lines of 
strength and beauty more elegantly blended. It is a 
friend to the farmer and an ornament to the field 
and forest, and its destruction should be prevented 
by custom as well as by law. It would seem that 
no one would wish to destroy a thing so pretty, so 
harmless, and so useful. But consideration for a 
bird from a boy! One might as well look for mercy 
in a pack of hounds pursuing a fox. 

Nick was no exceptional boy. He had seen his 
father (Uncle Wash) make coops and traps and 



NICK AND THE CARDINAL 




catch quails and tur- 
keys in them. So when 
he was seven years 
old he made a trap 
without any help, and 
set it in a brier patch 
where many small 
birds were in the habit 
of going every day. 
One morning, going 
quietly to it, he peeped over 
the weeds and, oh ! — there was a 
redbird in it. His heart beat for 
joy. He slipped his hand under the trap and seized 
the bird. Maybe he did not know that a cardinal 
can bite, and bite hard; but he soon found it out. 
When he caught the bird it seized his finger with its 
strong bill. But one thing sure, Nick was not going 
to let the bird go. He thought too much of the 
cardinal for that. With his left hand he pulled the 
bird loose from the other hand. Now the cardinal, 
plucky soldier that he is, resolved that if he must die 
he would die fighting. As fast as Nick pulled him 
loose from one hand he grabbed the other. This 
grabbing and pulling went on so fast it looked as if 
Nick was pulling candy. At last the boy got the 
cardinal by the head and clutched it so hard that, as 



30 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 

Nick said, "the mouth could not come open." The 
blood was oozing from the scratches on Nick's fingers, 
and when he reached home his hands and the cardinal 
were pretty much of the same color. 




An Old-time School 



For a long time there was no school or church near 
Cane Ridge. In the course of time the settlers 
thought there were enough of them to erect a building 
that would answer for both a church and a school. 
The spot chosen for it was about one mile east of 
Cane Ridge. The house was made of round pine 
logs, and the pulpit and floor of heavy slabs hewn 



AN OLD-TIME SCHOOL 31 

with a broadax. There was a wide slab of the same 
kind fastened to the walls, all around, to answer the 
purpose of desks, on which the pupils were taught to 
write, using pens made of goose quills. The seats 
were the halves of round logs with four pegs for legs, 
the flat side forming the top. There were no desks or 
blackboards. 

When Nick started to this school, a man having a 
squint, whom the boys called "Cross-eyed Bill," was 
the teacher. Speaking of the course of study a wag 
said, "It is made up of spelling, reading, writing, 
ciphering, and flogging." Cross-eyed BiH always 
kept on hand a good supply of switches — chinquapin 
for the girls and hickory for the boys. The patrons 
measured the merits of the school very largely by 
the number of boys and girls that got "licked" every 
day. One night when Dick Williams reached home 
his father asked, "Dick, how many uv em got licked 
to-day.?" 

"Jes three boys and two gals," said Dick. 

"Twon't do," said the old man, "'twon't do; de 
dis'pline of de school is givin' way; de Board will have 
to look into it." 

Among the textbooks used were Webster's blue- 
back speUer and Smiley's arithmetic. One of the 
"practical" subjects of the latter was "Barter and 
Trade." A problem like the following was thought 



32 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 



to be very practical: A farmer bought 500 yards of 
cottonade at 5}^ cents a yard and agreed to pay for 
it with fox hides at $2.50 per hide; how many hides 
did it take? Another noted section of arithmetic was 
the *'Rule of Three." It was commonly believed 
that any "sum" (problem) could be "worked" 
(solved) by this rule, yet scarcely one in a hundred 
could solve anything by it. One of the patrons said, 
"I would never let a son of mine go beyond the rule 
of three, for I have never seen a boy do so that 
did not take the big head." 

Near the door was a bucket of water, and above 
it hung a gourd dipper. Standing in the doorway 
and pretending to drink water gave the students 
a chance and an excuse to get a good view of 

anyone passing along 
the public road, a sight 
that was sought as 
one of unfailing inter- 
est. Hence, the sound 
of an approaching 
horse, buggy, or wagon 
was the pretext for a 
number of boys and 
girls to become very 
thirsty and rush for 
the bucket. 




AN OLD-TIME SCHOOL 



33 



Of all the problems the boys had to solve none 
gave them more concern than trying to "cipher out" 
when Cross-eyed Bill was looking at 
them. You see, one of his eyes 
looked one way and the other an- 
other way, and many a poor boy got 
into trouble by looking at the wrong 
eye. 

Most of the boys prided them- 
selves in being good spitters. They 
had a way of spitting between two 
fingers pressed against their lips. 
The targets on which they practiced 
and exploited their skill were flies 
crawling on the floor, and at a 
range of six feet or less they were pretty "sho' 
shots." One day Clay Harper said to his mother, 
*'Ma, Nick can't spell much, but he sho' can cipher 
and spit." 

The signal for "taking in school" was a series of 
loud blows with a heavy stick on the shutter of a 
door or window; and for "turning out school" the 
master simply said, "Dismissed." When the school 
was dismissed for the dinner recess, the students 
seized their buckets, bottles, and baskets and rushed 
for the campus. On hot summer days they usually 
took their places in groups under shady tr<^s, some 




34 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 

sitting on logs and others half reclining on the grass 
or leaves. Without any regard for rules or ceremony, 
they at once began to respond to the demands of 
hunger, each family eating its own food. At first it 
was much eating and little talking, but as the dinner 
progressed there was less of the first and more of the 
other. 

These children of the woods had had but little 
training in the niceties of cultured life, yet in morals 
and manners they had a code which was not without 
merit. For instance, while one of them was talking 
the others were quiet and attentive. They were 
quick to see the funny side of a situation, and there- 
fore, as a rule, enjoyed a joke whether they were the 
jokers or the joked. Their jokes, stories, and salHes of 
wit were mostly of personal events, of which the 
following are fair samples: 

The boys, with few exceptions, went barefooted. 
On one occasion John T. was lying on his back with 
his bare feet resting on a log. "John," said one of 
the boys, "you have the longest heels of any boy I 
ever saw." "Why," said another, "the most of his 
foot is behind." "Yes," drawled John, "I was 
nearly two years old before they all knew which way 
I was going to walk." 

Henry S. was known as a "big eater," and he 
gloried in the distinction. After "cleaning out" his 



A HUNT AND A STAMPEDE 35 

basket, about which the boys were joking him, he told 
this story on himself: "I went to a barbecue the 
other day, and they had a mighty sight of good grub; 
I won't say how much I et, but this I will say, when 
I mounted old Bedford to go home he kicked up with 
me because he thought he was toting double." 

Miss Josephine M. was a small and somewhat de- 
formed old-young lady. She was very bright and 
quite thorough in all her studies except arithmetic. 
"Miss Joe," said her friend Tom, "I have often won- 
dered what caused you to be bent and twisted up as 
you are," referring to her deformities. "Well, I don't 
mind telling you," said she; "I got tangled up this 
way studying fractions in arithmetic." 

However, it ill becomes one nowadays to speak 
lightly of, or undervalue that old-time school. With 
all its follies and excesses it had its good points and 
served its day and time in some useful ways. In any 
event, we should not kick the cradle that rocked us in 
our infancy, although we may decline to lie in it again. 

A Hunt, a Whir, a Rustle and a Stampede 

Uncle Wash and Uncle Nathan went out early one 
morning to hunt for a wild turkey. They reached the 
swamp just before daybreak, the hour when all the 
woods are still. It was the lull between the night and 

STORIES OF DIXIE. — 3 



36 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 



the day's toils and songs. The owl had hushed its 
hooting, the frog its croaking, and the whippoorwill 
its plaintive piping, while the sparrow, the lark and 
the bluejay had not yet begun their morning carols. 
A little while since, myriads of insects were droning, 
and soon as many more would raise their humming 
chorus. This, the darkest hour of the night, is, in 
the woods, the calmest of the twenty-four. 

On this occasion the silence was broken only by a 
gobbler who was making the welkin ring by his 
peculiar song, if song it be. It is probably so called 
by those who like Turkish music! The hunters ap- 
proached the gobbler cautiously, and stopped a 
hundred yards or so from its position. 

"Now, Nathan," said Uncle 
Wash, "you squat down here 
in the cane and bushes, and 
go to yelping as clearly, 
smoothly, and loudly as you 
can; I will go some distance 
towards the turkey, hide 
myself, and await his com- 
ing." 

But Uncle Nathan was 
scary and had a great horror 
of being stationed in such a 
dark and dismal place all by 




A HUNT AND A STAMPEDE 



37 



himself, knowing, too, 
that bears and other 
fierce beasts prowled in 
the swamp. 

"Marse Wash," said 
he, "might'n I go long 
you and do de yel- 



w 



pm 



J p »> 




"Look here, Nathan," said 
Uncle Wash, "if you are going 
to be scared we might as well quit 
right now, for no excited man can do 
good yelping. A turkey is the hardest thing in the 
woods to fool, and he will detect the least tremor or 
false note in your yelping, and fly away at once. I 
shall be only a few steps off, and nothing is going to 
hurt you." 

They took their positions; Uncle Nathan began to 
yelp nicely; the gobbler drew nearer; and everything 
promised well, except for the turkey. But "the 
best laid schemes 'o mice an' men gang aft a-gley." 
As often happens, the unexpected occurred. In a 
very short time the stillness of the woods was changed 
into an uproar. It all came about by another party, 
on a similar mission, entering upon the scene. A 
wildcat, likewise in pursuit of food, was prowling in 
these woods, and hearing what he took to be the 



38 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 



yelping of a turkey, he turned his attention and his 
activities in that direction. If you have ever seen a 
house cat creep up on a bird, you have some idea of' 
the stealthy and crafty manner in which the great 
woods cat advanced upon poor Uncle Nathan. 

Having gone as near to its victim as it pleased, the 
active beast leaped into the cane that screened the 
yelper, lit on Uncle Nathan, and began some surgical 
operations on his back. It did not take 
Uncle Nathan long to get busy. The first 
act of his performance was to give a yell 
that would have done credit to a Cher- 
okee Indian. The negro and the cat at 
once saw their mistakes — the one in 
coaxing and the other in assaulting the 
wrong kind of turkey. Both were sur- 
prised and terrified, and, as soon as they 
could untangle themselves, they began 
to part company. 

Three distinct com- 
motions followed Uncle 
Nathan's yell. The first 
was a whir up through 
the air; this was made by 
the gobbler as he winged 
his flight to parts un- 
known. The second was 




A HUNT AND A STAMPEDE 



39 




a rustle down through the 
swamp towards a cane- 
brake; that was made by 
the cat. The third was a 
stampede up through the 
swamp in the direction of the house; this was made by 
Uncle Nathan. Uncle Wash, having heard the yell 
and the commotion, and being an old hunter, at once 
took in the situation, and having a keen sense of 
humor he laughed almost as loud as the other uncle 
had yelled. He lost the gobbler, it is true, but was 
fully recompensed by the joy he got out of the whir, 
the rustle, and the stampede. 

There is no record as to how fast the cat ran. It 
must have done the best it could, for it was not only 
frightened but probably ashamed that it should have 
mistaken a darky for a turkey. As for 
Uncle Nathan — well, all he lacked of fly- 
ing was that he now and then touched 
the ground with the fore-ends of his feet. 
It was the one time that he 
did no grumbling or wailing; 
the energy necessary 
to do these was put 
into his legs and 
feet. These were his r^^' 
main dependence. 




40 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SETTLER 

Of course he "trusted in de Lawd," but he did not 
let his legs and feet know that he was so trusting. 
In this long stampede he made but one exclamation. 
Scaring up a rabbit he is reported to have said, *'Git 
out de wa3^ rabbit, and let a man run what kin run." 

Some time after that Uncle Wash jokingly said, 
"Nathan, would you like to go in the woods to- 
morrow morning and yelp up a gobbler for me.^^" 

"Mars Wash," said he, "I done thro'd dat yelper 
'way. S'pose you git Alf; he's er mulater nigger, 
an' don't look so much like a wile turkey as a black 
feller like me." 

We shall see more of this faithful old servant in 
the pages which follow. Suffice it here to say, he 
was trusty in all undertakings except such as exposed 
him to personal danger. 



The subsequent careers of Uncle Wash and Nick will be re- 
lated after the reader has been informed somewhat of the origin 
and movements of their ancestors. It will be interesting and 
instructive to know where these typical settlers came from, and 
the causes and incentives which brought them into the wilds 
of Louisiana. So the next two chapters will give a brief account 
of the landing of the first English pioneers on the Atlantic Coast, 
and how they pushed their way westward through the wilder- 
ness, opening lands, founding homes, and building up this great 
nation. After that the story of Nick will be resumed, touching 
on his experiences in the woods and on the farm, at college and 
in the Civil War. 



CHAPTER II 
THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 

The Atlantic Slope 




The Atlantic Slope is, in the main, the land which 
is drained by the streams that flow into the Atlantic 
Ocean. Starting at the mouth of one of the larger 
of these streams, and following it up, one would get 
higher and higher and finally reach the Allegheny 
Mountains, or one of their numerous spurs. Before 
the white people came from the ''old world" to live 

41 



42 THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 

in the "new world," this slope was inhabited by In- 
dians and wild beasts. 

On April 26, 1607, Captain John Smith, with a 
party coming over to live in the new world, reached 
that part of the Atlantic Slope which is called Vir- 
ginia. It was a goodly land, fertile and charmful. 




Seldom did the landscape need distance to give en- 
chantment to the view. The hills and valleys fol- 
lowed one another in such regular and graceful un- 
dulations that they were not unlike the stately swells 
and heaves of the ocean after the violence of the 
storm is spent. The Blue Ridge has many tireless 
rivals for man's admiration. Of these are the distant 
hills with their varying tints and the lovely valleys 
with their carpets of green. The lark soars high in 
the blue arch overhead, pours forth its notes of joy, 
and seems to say, "The world is full of brightness, of 
sweetness, and of hope." 

April 26, 1607, may be remembered as the date of 



THE ATLANTIC SLOPE 



43 



the first permanent English settlement in America. 
Few persons stop to think of the courage and heroism 
of these English settlers. Nowadays men and 
women cross the Atlantic in a few days, 
making the voyage in elegant and well 
furnished steamers, and give scarce a 
thought to the hazard of it. Then it 
was a journey of many weeks, in frail 
vessels and into unknown conditions of 
land and water. This was the situation 
faced by Captain Smith and his fol- 
lowers. Besides the visible perils, there 
were untold dangers of which they knew 
naught. Worn by the travails of 
a long sea voyage, they began 
life in the woods — a wilder- 
ness so vast that i 
could say where it 
beginning and where 
ending. Within 
the range of eye 
or ear there were 
no signs of man's 
abode, no wisps of 
smoke to mark 
the place of hut 
or tenement, no 




44 THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 

sound of bell, no bleat of sheep, nor distant crow of 
chanticleer to cheer the deep twilight calm. With 
the approach of darkness came a jumble of night 
sounds — hoots of owls, calls of whippoorwills, and 
chantings of katydids — and against the blackness of 
the woods flashed the fitful lights of countless fireflies. 
But the settlers were brave and industrious. They 
built rough cabins to live in, and opened small fields 
and gardens in which they raised corn and vege- 
tables. In the course of time more white people came 
to live in this new world, building their homes near 
the places where they landed. Thus was formed a 
strip of settlements all along the Atlantic coast from 
Georgia to Maine. With the increase in population 
this strip became wider and wider, extending up the 
Atlantic Slope and pushing the Indians and wild 
beasts further back into the interior. The settlers 
met with many difficulties and suffered many hard- 
ships. They were often at war with the Indians, and 
many of them died of disease, exposure, and want of 
proper care or food. But toils, failures, and mis- 
fortunes called forth new effort; the greater the labor 
they undertook the greater always their spirit. It 
was as if they said, "The Atlantic Slope will never 
be abandoned by men of English descent; they have 
come to claim it, and here will they abide to found a 
new nation." 



GROWTH OF THE COLONIES 45 

Growth of the Colonies 

From 1607 to 1787 the number of the settlers in- 
creased from one hundred and five persons to about 
three milHon. This increase in population during 
these one hundred and eighty years, however great, 
was not so striking as the growth of the colonies in 
other ways. Agriculture and the industries throve, 
and trade and commerce increased. Very good roads 
and bridges were constructed, schools and colleges 
founded, fine churches and residences erected, and 
systems of county and state governments organized. 

The colonists enjoyed largely the blessings of civil 
country life. Under such conditions what a wonder- 
ful healer and teacher is the woods ! Pure air, whole- 
some exercise, and plenty of refreshing sleep are its 
tonics, and freedom, nature, and harmonies are its 
lessons. There is rest in its quietude, cheer in its 
songs, and inspiration in its scenes and activities. 

While lacking in the accomplishments of life, coun- 
try people are, as a rule, lusty and stalwart, muscular 
and manly, and brimful of good will and hospitality. 
"They are much like others," says Mr. Comstock, 
"only they have the rough bark on. They are a great 
deal more vital — the bark has, somehow, kept the 
sap richer. The polishing takes something away." 
"Every large city," says Dr. Eliot, "is a consuming 



46 



THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 



fire in which the human race would burn itself out 
in a few generations were it not for the fresh blood 
it receives from the country." 

Born and reared in the freedom of the air and the 
woods, enjoying the rights of life, liberty, and the 
pursuit of happiness, country people have always 
been among the first to resist the sway of tyrants. 
While their love of liberty and 
independence sometimes runs 
counter to the wholesome re- 
straints of civilization, it is well 
to remember that republics 
have had their births in the 
country, and ceased to be de- 
mocracies when they lost the 
spirit and lessons of the woods. 
How natural that a great re- 
public should have sprung up 
in the free wilds of America. 
The pioneers who invaded these 
vast solitudes, cleared the 
lands and tilled the soil, 
imbibed the spirit of lib- 
erty and the ideals of 
freedom from all their en- 
vironments, and it was 
only a question of time 




GROWTH OF THE COLONIES 47 

when they would no longer endure the yoke of 
the kingdoms beyond the seas. In this spirit of 
liberty and these ideals of freedom the colonists had 
their greatest growth— a growth to which our great 
republic is indebted for the triumphs of the past, the 
blessings of the present, and the hopes of the 

future. 

A country is known and measured largely by its 
products. Cotton and corn, horses and cattle, timber 
and minerals are indeed valuable products; but the 
greatest possible products of a people or a country are 
great men and women. Measured by this rule the 
colonists must have been a great people, for they pro- 
duced Washington, Franklin, Adams, Jefferson, 
Hamilton, Greene, Henry, Hancock, Madison, and 
many others noted in civil and military life. Under 
these leaders they fought successfully the battles of 
the Revolutionary War. They did something even 
greater than that— they founded the great and good 
government under which we live. 



48 THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 



The Call of the West 




When the Revolutionary War came to an end, the 
soldiers returned to their homes and resumed the 
pursuits of peaceful life. Many of them found their 
farms in a sad plight. The barns were in decay, the 
fences gone, and the fields and gardens covered with 
bushes and briers. They had no money with which 
to hire help or to buy the things they so much needed. 
But "where there is a will there is a way." They had 
the will, and the way sooner or later followed, though 
it led through much toil and many hardships. Some 
of them left their old farms and moved to new 
settlements, where the soil was fresh and more 
fertile. 

Beyond the Allegheny Mountains was a vast un- 



THE CALL OF THE WEST 49 

known wilderness stretching away toward the sun- 
set. In it were great forests and wide plains, and 
many rolling rivers and dense canebrakes. The In- 
dians inhabited it, and countless buffaloes browsed 
on the plains; bears, panthers, and wolves roamed in 
the forests and canebrakes. Some daring men had 
gone into these wilds and brought back wonderful 
reports of the richness of the soil, the beauty of the 
rivers, and the abundance and variety of the timber, 
the fish, and the game. 

These reports caused many of the settlers to turn 
their eager eyes and souls to the west. Very soon 
many families and companies of men and women 
began to move across the mountains and into the 
wilds which lay beyond. Some went in the hope 
of gain, and some in answer to the call of the wild. 
This love of the wild shows itself, more or less, in 
all men and boys. There are few lads who do not 
like to ramble in the woods, swim in the streams that 
flow through the forests, and play Robinson Crusoe 
on their lonely islands. 

Strange, indeed, it is that anyone should prefer 
life in the woods, with its exposures and privations, 
to the comforts of home. Yet there are those to 
whom the call of the wild is stronger than the love of 
ease and comfort, or the dread of toil and hunger, or 
the fear of disease and danger. With a few congenial 



50 



THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 



friends they find delight in hunting wild beasts in 
the trackless swamps, fishing in wildwood streams, 
and eating coarse meals in the deep shadows of the 
forest. Stranger still that this joy in wild scenes and 
wild life is often greatest when danger is most threat- 
ening and the ills most severe. 

No doubt this love of the wild was implanted in 
man for a wise purpose. To it is 
due primarily the extension of man's 
rule over the earth. In our own 
country, as in many others of the 
past, the men who answered the 
call of the wild were the pioneers 
of civil life. Without them vast re- 
gions, with all their wealth of soil, 
timber, and mines, would probably 
have still been unknown, and wild 
beasts would yet be roaming over fer- 
tile tracts where corn and 
cotton now grow. It may 
be that the call of the 
wild was at least a stimu- 
lus to the explorations of 
discoverers like Columbus 
and Fremont, Livingston, 
Stanley, and Roosevelt. 




THE WESTWARD MOVEMENT 



51 



The Westward Movement 




Accustomed as we are now to good highways, auto- 
mobiles, railroads, and steamboats, it is hard for one 
to realize how rough was the way and meager the 
means of traveling in the days of our forefathers. 
In moving from the east to the west the pioneers 
usually went in ox wagons. They carried only small 
outfits of bedding, clothing, and utensils. Among 
these "necessary things" were frying pans, axes, and 
guns. For the sake of company, and for help and pro- 
tection in time of need, two or more families gener- 
ally moved together. Often the roads, when there 
were any, had to be "cleared out" or causewayed. 
Hampered in this and many other ways the prog- 
ress was slow. With the close of day camp was 
pitched near a spring or running branch, if possible. 
Beds were "fixed" in the wagons for the women 

STORIES OF DIXIE.— 4 



52 



THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 



P"'^^'?^^^^^'^ ^^^ children and 

pallets made under 
the trees for the men 
and boys. As the 
blackness of night 
closed about them 
there came many 
dismal sounds from 
the woods — maybe 
the howl of a wolf, the hoot of 
^^ an owl, the bark of a fox, or 

the yell of an Indian. 
But with all their scanty means of 
travel and comfort the trip was to 
them more enjoyable than onerous. Never 
having known of the arts and ease of modern life, 
they did not miss the comforts or conveniences. 
Just as a citizen of Atlanta enjoys for the first time 
the sights of Washington, so these denizens of the 
country were cheered and charmed by the new 
woodland scenes that constantly opened before them. 
Indeed, there is nothing in city life which so thrills 
the heart of man as the wild sense of freedom which 
the pioneer feels in the wilderness. 

People spread over the West from the East by de- 
grees. Going some distance westward they bought 
or preempted land, built houses, and opened farms. 




THE WESTWARD MOVEMENT 



53 



After living on these farms for some time, maybe 
many years, they or their children moved to places 
still farther west, and so on, thus gradually encroach- 
ing on the hunting ground of the red man, and con- 
verting it into a land of homes, farms, and schools. 
It may be worth while to note why and how this 
change went on thus by degrees. 

When the land was first cleared the virgin soil, as 
it was called, was very fertile and produced large 
crops of everything planted in it. But the crops fed 
on and consumed the richness of 
the soil just as a horse feeds on 
and eats up corn. Much of this 
rich soil was also washed away by 
the rains. The method of farming 
was a wasteful one, because little 
was done to restore the plant food 
which the crops took from the soil, 
and little provision was made to 
keep the soil from washing away; so 
that, sooner or later, the fields being 
pretty well worn out, the owners 
would "sell out," and move far- 
ther west to obtain fresh land. 

All the settlers, more or less, 
had horses, mules, cattle, and 
hogs, and these were called stock. 




'^^>»<^: 



54 THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 

In the fresh wild woods, especially during the 
spring, summer, and fall, there was a quantity of 
good food for the stock, such as grass, cane, acorns, 
beechnuts, and pine masts. The woods where this 
food abounded were called ranges. When new set- 
tlers came along they would buy or enter a portion 
of the land, and therefore, year by year, the ranges 
became smaller and poorer. To procure better ones, 
the owners would sell out and move farther west. 

In the wild regions where there were but few, if 
any, settlers, the woods abounded in deer, turkeys, 
bears, ducks, and other kinds of animals and birds 
that were good to eat. These were called game, and 
in the new settlements it formed a large part of the 
people's food. But, as the number of settlers in- 
creased game became scarcer, and by and by, many 
would seek a locality farther west, where it was 
more plentiful. 

To some the call of the wild was always a stimulus 
to go west. The desire for adventure and the excite- 
ment that attends the discovery of new wonders 
in Nature's handiwork, appealed to them and in 
addition to the mere joy of life in the wilds, with 
its accompanying good health, there was also much 
profit to be made by securing and selling the hides 
and furs of such animals as bears, foxes, beavers, 
otters, and minks. 



THE WESTWARD MOVEMENT 



55 



An Illustration of the Westward Movement 



In the cemetery at Tuskegee, Alabama, there is a 
tombstone bearing this inscription: 

IN MEMORY OF 

HARRIS NICHOLSON, 

A REVOLUTIONARY SOLDIER; 

WHO WAS BORN ON THE 12tH. DAY OF MARCH, 

A. D. 1760, AND DEPARTED THIS LIFE ON THE 

28tH, DAY OF JUNE 1841; AGED SIyR., 3 MO., 

16 DAYS. 

The ancestors of this old soldier came from Scot- 
land, and settled in the 
Colony of Maryland. Soon 
after the Revolutionary War, 
Harris moved from Mary- 
land to Virginia and thence 
to Georgia, whether in hopes 
of gain or in answer to the 
call of the wild, it is not 
known. Probably both in- 
centives had something to do 

with it. He had three sons, all born in Virginia, one 
of whom was called James. 

James did not take much to guns and hounds. His 
activities were due far more to the hope of gain than 
to the call of the wild. Having a business turn, and 




56 



THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 



being industrious and saving, "he laid up treasures 
on earth" until he became very well off for a pioneer 
farmer. He had five sons, all of whom were named 
after men noted in politics or religion; namely, Mat- 
thew, Washington, Monroe, Absalom, and Wesley. 
From Georgia he moved to Alabama, settling first in 
Autauga and later in Macon County. This was be- 
fore the Indians had been driven out of the state. 
Near the pretty little city of Tuskegee, James Nichol- 
son lived and died. There, by his venerable father, 
he, his wife, and his son Wesley are buried. 

It was in Alabama that Washington, the second 
^^ son, grew from boyhood to man- 

hood. In business matters and 
habits he was more or less like his 
father, but very unlike him in re- 
gard to the chase and the wilds. 
Being a great lover of 
the woods and all kinds 
of field sports, he was 
to be found in the 
forest or swamp with 
his gun or his fishing 
rod when not busy 
with work on the farm. 
As he grew older he 
came to be known as 







THE WESTWARD MOVEMENT 



57 



"Uncle Wash," and it is by that name that he is 
designated in the opening chapter of these chroni- 
cles. 

During the same period there lived near Tuskegee 
another well-to-do James, whose surname was Wafer. 
The Wafers came originally from Ireland, and settled 




in South Carolina. Now the Scotch James and the 
Irish James were neighbors and good friends, and 
this paved the way to friendly relations between 
Washington and Miss Martha, the younger daughter 
of the Irish James. W^ashington came to admire 
Martha for her genial Irish qualities, and she him for 
his sturdy Scotch endowments. So, in the natural 
course of human events, they became man and wife. 
This goodly couple, strong in body and clean in 



58 THE STORY OF THE PIONEERS 

morals, were the father and mother of Nick, the hero 
of this book. 

The careers of Matthew and Monroe Nicholson, 
brothers of Uncle Wash, furnish additional examples 
of the westward movement. The former, Matthew, 
early espoused the cause of the "Lone Star State," 
and after following the fortunes of Sam Houston, 
joined his friend Walker, the "filibuster," and died 
in his service in Nicaragua. Monroe served under 
General Taylor throughout the Mexican War, and 
subsequently settled in Texas. The children of 
these two brothers now reside in that great state.* 

* To continue this illustration of the movements to the west we might 
here run ahead of our story to say that Nick was carried in infancy to 
Louisiana, where he grew to manhood, was married and became the 
father of three sons. These, in the course of time, moved still farther 
west. Two of them now live in Texas, and a short time since the third 
was driven out of Mexico by the insurgents. 

Similarly, there are countless other southern families whose sojournings 
in the westward movement may be traced from the Potomac to the 
Rio Grande. 



CHAPTER III 
THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 

More "Elbow Room" 

Although eastern Alabama at that time (1844) was 
a comparatively new country, Uncle Wash began to 
look about for a still newer one. Said he, "I want 
more elbow room." He had heard much of a land 
called Louisiana lying away beyond the great Missis- 
sippi River. He longed to till its fertile soil, browse 
his stock on its wide and rich ranges, and hunt the 
wild animals in its forests and canebrakes. He 
thought of it as "the promised land" and to that 
far away region he resolved to go. His family at that 
time consisted of himself, wife, and three children, 
little Nick being the baby. 

Just here we may recall a custom of "large slave 
owners," that is, men who owned quite a number of 
negro slaves. When a son or daughter married, the 
" old folks " would give him or her a few negroes. The 
child generally knew, years in advance, which of the 
slaves these would be, and the slaves also knew. In 
kind-hearted families, as most of the Dixie families 

59 



60 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 




were, there always sprang up a close tie between the 
child and his or her promised negroes. Indeed, the 

servants came to have 
for their " young massa" 
or "young missis" a pa- 
ternal or fraternal affec- 
tion. In dividing the 
negroes among the 
white children real 
family ties were seldom 
if ever severed, unless 
the change was agree- 
able to the negroes 
themselves. 
In accordance with this custom, Uncle Wash had 
received from his father and his wife's father, both 
of whom were then living, the following negroes: 
Uncle Nathan and his wife (Aunt Jane), Aunt Kitty 
and her daughter Mary (the house girl), Claricy (a 
woman), and Caroline (Nick's nurse). 

There were, at that time, two usual routes of 
travel from Alabama to Louisiana: First, the "over- 
land route" which was traveled in wagons, and led 
through the state of Mississippi and across the great 
swamp of the "Father of Waters" and that river 
itself at Vicksburg, Rodney, or Natchez; second, 
the "water route" which was more comfortable, by 



OFF FOR LOUISIANA 61 

the way of Mobile and New Orleans. Movers hav- 
ing a large number of negroes and much stock often 
sent them by the first route and took their families 
by the second. Uncle Wash took his family and his 
slaves by the water route. 

Off for Louisiana 

"Good-by! Good-by!" was uttered many times in 
sorrow and in tears, as Uncle Wash and his party 
seated themselves in the wagons which were to 
carry them from Tuskegee to Montgomery; and for 
some distance a shadow of sadness hovered over 
them. But it was a bright September morning, and 
all the landscape was brilliant with sunshine. Here 
and there the country was threaded with little 
streams whose rippling waters inspired hope and 
gladness. These cheering scenes tended to lighten 
the hearts and brighten the eyes of the movers. 

At Montgomery they took a boat, went down the 
Alabama River to Mobile, and thence across the gulf 
to New Orleans. For the first time in their lives they 
were out of sight of land. Aunt Martha amused her- 
self by watching the "servants"; she never called 
them slaves or negroes. Uncle Wash also enjoj^ed 
seeing them "see things," though he pretended not to 
notice it. He smiled when Nathan, standing on the 



62 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 




bow of the vessel and looking all around to where 
the sky and sea seemed to come together, said, 

"It sho' do look like 



we'se in er kind er 
low place wi' high 
Ian' all roim' us." 

At one time the 
boat was tossed by a 
great wave just as 
Aunt Kitty was cross- 
ing the deck. She 
slipped and fell with 
such a crash as to jar the boat and startle the pas- 
sengers. This time Uncle Wash laughed outright, 
and so did every one present except Aunt Martha, 
who rushed to the fallen one, helped her up, and as- 
sisted her to her couch. After that, no coaxing could 
induce Aunt Kitty to leave the safest retreat she 
could find. Aunt Martha visited the servants to see 
how they were getting along, and finding Aunt Jane 
pacldng away some food said, "Jane, what are you 
doing?" 

"Miss Marfy, I'se been fro win' up dreadful, and 
Nathan he 'lowed I had de sea complaint; so I'se des 
puttin' up a little vi'tals to eat when us come to de 
udder side." 

They landed at Milneburg, and from there went 



OFF FOR LOUISIANA 




on "The Pontchartrain Railroad" to the city of New 
Orleans, a distance of about 
said to be the second 
oldest railroad i n 
America. At that 
time there were three 
others in the state 
nearly as old; viz., 
one from New Or- 
leans to Carrollton, 
one from Port Hud- 
son to Clinton, and 
one from Bayou Sara 
to Woodville, Mississippi. Surely the people living 
in this section at that time nmst have been progres- 
sive and more or less wealthy. 

At one time on the way Uncle Nathan was gazing 
intently out of a window, just as the train was flying 
by a field in which the rows were at right angles to 
the track. 

"Nathan," said Aunt Jane, " what is yer starin' 
at so out'n dat winder.'^" 

"Dem rows," said Nathan, "sho do look like de 
spokes of a big wheel all turnin' roun' a hub way out 
yon'er in de woods." 

When the train stopped and the party alighted, 
Claricy said, "Dat sho' do beat me." 



64 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 

"What yer talkin' 'bout now, nigger?" asked Uncle 
Nathan. 

"Why, God-er-mighty, man," said Claricy, "I 
didn't mor'n git on dat sof seat 'fore I had to git 
out." 

New Orleans Then and Now 

New Orleans was then a small place in comparison 
with what it is now. The principal business streets 
at that time were Royal and Chartres, and the main 
residence street was Esplanade. The city did not 
extend much above Canal Street. What is now called 
Howard Avenue was the boundary of the suburbs, 
and all beyond that, away up to Carrollton, was 
woods. The railroad from New Orleans to Carroll- 
ton went through these woods, and the roadbed of 
that old railway is now largely the beautiful St. 
Charles Avenue. The depot was on the lot now oc- 
cupied by the public library. 

New Orleans was founded by the French in 1718, 
and in the course of time more and more people 
came from France to make their homes there. Among 
these were members of many of the oldest, wealthiest, 
and most cultured families of Paris. Thus this lead- 
ing city of Dixie, in the social, industrial, and com- 
mercial habits of its citizens, and in the style of its 
private and public buildings, became the Paris of the 



NEW ORLEANS THEN AND NOW 



65 




new world. After a while the English-speaking peo- 
ple began to settle in the place. They moved in 
slowly at first, but after about 1845 they poured in at 
a rapid rate. They settled mostly in, and built up, 
that part of the city lying above Canal Street. Thus 
Canal became the central street, and on and across 
this great broadway played the forces which made 
New Orleans the charming French-English city that 
it is. Its population is unique in that it is more or 
less a cross between the sturdy and thrifty Scotch- 



66 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 

English and the artistic and chivalrous French. We 
may say of them what Macaulay said of the Irish: 
"They have the qualities which make people inter- 
esting rather than prosperous." And this is no bad 
thing to say about anybody. As a commendation it 
is better than the reverse, though it may not be so 
regarded by some in this money-loving age. 

However, as stated by Mark Twain, "New Orleans 
is outfitted with progressive men — thinking, saga- 
cious, long-headed men." In the face of adverse in- 
dustrial and economic changes wrought by the Civil 
War, the city has had a steady growth in population 
and material prosperity. It has met its problems in 
sanitation, economics, and education bravely and 
skillfully. The bank deposits and clearances bear 
testimony to its financial welfare; and artistic and 
noble public buildings bespeak its civic pride and 
elegant discernment. Nowhere are parks more in- 
viting and restful, nor works of art more varied and 
attractive. Throughout the city are numerous 
homes, both palatial and humble, that tell their own 
story of taste and comfort and hospitality. Few- 
cities have more efficient public schools, and fewer 
still enjoy the advantages and blessings of a great 
university like Tulane. 

In the meantime, New Orleans has not forgotten 
that: 



NEW ORLEANS THEN AND NOW 



67 




'We may live without poetry, music and art; 
We may live without conscience, and live without heart; 
We may live without friends; we may live without books; 
But civilized man cannot live without cooks." 



The traveling public may be unmindful of the 
city's great buildings and parks, but of its cuisine 
never. Nowhere has coffee a more delightful 
aroma or meat a more savory flavor. No less noted 
are the New Orleans oysters — renowned alike for 
their abundance and their quality. The festive 
board with its viands and good cheer has played 
an important role in the life of this city of Dixie; 

STORIES OF DIXIE.— 5 



68 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 



and the many bright and generous things which have 
been said and done there are largely responsible for 
the reputed "qualities which make the people more 
interesting than prosperous." 

Uncle Wash and his party stopped at the St. 
Charles, which was said to be 
"the handsomest hotel, not 
only in the United States, but 
in the world." Before going 
to dinner Aunt Martha said to 
her husband, 

"Now, my dear, you must re- 
member not to eat with your 
knife, nor pick your teeth at the 
table; and be sure to sip your 
soup quietly from the side of 
your spoon." 

Of course he had been taught 
these things at home from child- 
hood, but life in the woods had 
made him careless 
about, and almost 
indifferent to, these 
^ "highfalutin' man- 
ners." A hint that 
his manners were 
not first class net- 




NEW ORLEANS THEN AND NOW 69 

tied him, and he pretended to know exactly what to 
do without being told by anybody. 

"I'll do the best I can," said he rather sullenly, 
"but I tell you now, it will be precious little soup that 
I'll get if I have to sip it from the side of a spoon. I 
call that tomfoolery." 

Like most country people they thought when they 
entered the dining hall that all eyes were centered on 
them. This put Uncle Wash on his best behavior; 
so he watched Aunt Martha on the sly, and by fol- 
lowing her lead, was proud to think that his conduct 
had been such as to show those city folks that "he 
knew a thing or two" himself. 

After dinner they stood on the beautiful veranda 
of the hotel, and looked out over the city. In the 
street below them people and vehicles of man}^ de- 
scriptions moved hither and thither, and beyond lay 
blocks of massive buildings following each other in 
endless perspective. The noise of it all rose and fell 
like the roar of the sea about them. How different 
was this sound from that of the woods. Here it was 
as the roar of battle — sharp, harsh, and discordant. 
In the woods the countless voices of nature produce 
no discords; the country is never out of tune with 
itself. "Its music is one vast elemental chord and 
has been the same for all time." 

They spent the afternoon in "seeing the sights." 



70 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 

Of course they went to the French Market, and the 
many interesting and curious things they saw and 
heard there gave them something 
to talk about for many a day to 
come. Among other places and 
things they saw were the mint, 
where silver dollars were being 
coined; the ships, with their tall 
masts and fine cabins; the bird 
stores, where many kinds of 
pretty birds were for sale; and 
the St. Louis Hotel, with its ball- 
rooms "unequaled in the United 
States for size and beauty." 
Aunt Martha, always thoughtful of the children 
and servants, took them with her to all these places, 
not only for their amusement and instruction, but for 
the pleasure she derived from their droll and witty 
comments on the things they saw and heard. At the 
French Market, Uncle Nathan, looking at some tawny 
foreigners, said, "For de life er me I don't see how 
dey tells de white folks from de niggers down here." 
An Italian was vending fruit and speaking loudly and 
rather musically in a jumble of the English and Italian 
languages. Nathan gazed at him as if looking at a 
clown in a circus, and said, "Dat must be sum kin' er 
corn song he singin'." Aunt Kitty, who could not 




UP THE RED RIVER 71 

see very well, ran against a metallic statue of an In- 
dian used in advertising cigars. She hustled around it 
in a hurry, exclaiming, "I run'd smack into dat gent'- 
man; I wonder what he standin' out dar like dat fur? 
Dey sho' do have sum po' white trash down here!" 
Never was a trip more thoroughly enjoyed by all, 
white and black; and I doubt not that all rejoiced in 
the thought that they had now added to their list of 
sights many things that others had not seen. 

Up the Red River 

The next day a flag was flying from the jack staff 
of a Red River boat, and also a smaller one from the 
verge staff astern. This signified that the boat would 
leave that day. The usual time of departure was 
5 o'clock, p. M. As that time drew nearer things 
became more lively about the boat; quantities of 
barrels and boxes were rushed across the levee, on 
to the stage-planks, and aboard the steamer. In the 
midst of this hurly-burly the passengers made their 
way to the boat as best they could, many of them 
carrying one or more huge packages. To our little 
company, it all looked like a drove of hustling ants 
almost covered by their big burdens of plunder. 
Among other things Uncle Wash had a basket of 
fishing tackle, and a new double-barreled shotgun 



72 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 



^ 


— -, 


f 


/ 


^_^^ 


-^^ J 


i 


' 1 


J 




tj 


Hi 



guaranteed "to shoot buckshot through an inch- 
plank at a distance of one hundred yards." 

Great masses 
-.^^ of black smoke 
^j rose from the tall 
j chimneys and 
^ drifted like 
clouds over the 
#s=^^^^RJ ^:^.;^^^^ city. 

' " " ^ - f -i:^-^ ' - By and by the 

throttle valve of the powerful engine was opened, 
the great driving wheel began to turn, and the 
vessel glided backward into the deep water. Soon 
she made a graceful swing, and with her prow 
pointed up stream, began her journey on the Father 
of Waters. 

By the time the boat was fairly under way the pas- 
sengers had secured their staterooms, and found com- 
fortable seats on the open promenade deck over- 
looking the river and the city. All eyes were strained 
to catch the many changing scenes of land and w^ater. 
Invigorated by the fresh air and charmed by the 
glorious sights, every heart thrilled with joy and 
every eye beamed with delight. For the time being, 
troubles, pains, and anxieties were forgotten, the 
puny becoming well and the old young. 

But there was another scene on the after deck that 



UP THE RED RIVER 73 

is worthy of notice. In that quiet place three con- 
genial spirits formed a little coterie of their own. 
How soon *' birds of a feather flock together." Crea- 
tures ''of a kind" are drawn together by a power as 
invisible and as certain as the force of gravity. Of no 
other kind is this more true than of hunters and fisher- 
men. Each of these three was exploiting the merits 
of his new double-barreled shotgun. Uncle Wash 
told what his "Mary Ann" was guaranteed to do. 
"From what the fellow told me about my * Nancy 
Jane,' " said Mr. A., "she's going to kill 'em so high 
up they'll spoil before they hit the ground." "That's 
nothing," said Mr. B., "I am fearing that 'Martha 
Washington' is going to kill 'em so dead they won't 
fall." 

In 1827 Mrs. Trollope wrote: "The unbroken flat- 
ness of the banks of the Mississippi continued un- 
varied for many miles above New Orleans; but the 
graceful and luxuriant palmetto, the dark and noble 
ilex, and the bright orange were everywhere to be 
seen, and it was many days before we were weary of 
looking at them." 

In the same year Captain Basil Hall wrote: "The 
district of country which lies adjacent to the Missis- 
sippi, in the lower parts of Louisiana, is everywhere 
thickly peopled by sugar planters, whose showy 
houses, gay piazzas, trig gardens, and numerous slave 



74 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 



villages, all clean and neat, gave an exceedingly 
thriving air to the river scenery." 

"From New Orleans to Baton Rouge," wrote 
Mark Twain in 1882, "the great sugar plantations 
border both sides of the river all the way, and stretch 
their league-wide levels back to the dim forest walls 
of bearded cypress in the rear. A most homelike and 
happy-looking region. And now and then you see a 
pillared and porticoed great manor- 
house embowered in trees." "But," he 
continues, "the trigness of it all has 
passed away. The whitewash is gone 
from the negro cabins now; and many, 
possibly most, of the big mansions, 
once so shining white, have worn out 
their paint and have a decayed 
and neglected look. It is the 
blight of war." 

Most of the people 
living alongside of the 
river were French. 
Indeed South Louisi- 
ana (all that part ly- 
ing south of the 
mouth of Red River) 
was settled largely 
by French emigrants 




UP THE RED RIVER 75 

from Acadia and France, and most of the present 
inhabitants of that section are of French descent. 
These Creoles, as they are called, are kind, polite and 
industrious, and among them are some of the richest 
men in the state. By their high ideals and courtly 
bearing many of them show that the blue blood of 
the old French aristocracy flows in their veins. 
They have furnished many of the leaders of Dixie in 
civil and military life, among whom were Audubon, 
the naturalist; Gayarre and Fortier, the historians; 
Beauregard, the general and engineer; and Paul 
Morphy, possibly the greatest chess player of all 
times. One of their number, Alexander Mouton, 
was then (1844) governor of the state. He had be- 
fore that represented Louisiana in the United States 
Senate, and while he was residing in Washington the 
celebrated sculptor Powers carved "The Greek 
Slave." In selecting a model hand for this famous 
statue he is said to have chosen that of Mrs. Mouton, 
who was noted alike for the beauty of her face and 
the symmetry of her form. 

The next morning our boat reached Baton Rouge, 
one hundred and thirty miles from New Orleans. 
Here is the first highland — a beautiful bluff country 
fifty-five feet above sea level, and twelve feet above 
the highest overflow ever known in the Mississippi 
Valley. '* There was a tropical sun overhead and a 



76 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 

tropical swelter in the air," yet it is never so hot or 
so cold as in places much farther north. In the dark 
green woods are countless magnolias, whose flowers 
are seldom surpassed for size, beauty or fragrance. 
These fertile bluflf lands, rising and sinking in grace- 
ful curves, well- wooded and well-watered, the home 
of sunshine, birds and flowers, appear to have been 
in no way slighted in their making. Baton Rouge 
was then a sleepy village; now it is a brisk city 
of 23,000 souls, the capital of the state, and the site 
of the Louisiana State University. 

Twenty miles above Baton Rouge is Port Hudson, 
a place of historic interest and modern unimpor- 
tance. Just as the alluvial lands on the east bank give 
way to the bluffs at Baton Rouge, so here at Port 
Hudson the bluffs give place to the hills. These 
high hills, overlooking the river, were the scenes of 
some severe conflicts in the Civil War. One of 
these was the night battle between Farragut's fleet 
and the Confederate land batteries, April 14, 1863.* 

* Nick was there on the memorable night of April 14th, but, being 
sergeant of the guard, was in a place of comparative safety — the hot 
balls and lighted bombs passed mostly over his head. While the superb 
pyrotechnic display was in operation, he wrote the following parody on 
an old hymn: 

When I can see a blazing bomb 

Come whizzing through the sky, 

I bid farewell to every fear 

As round a stump I fly. 



UP THE RED RIVER 



77 



This landscape was the first to remind Aunt 
Martha of the hills about her old Georgia home. 
With Nick in her arms, 



a tear stole down her 
cheek as the scene 
awakened in her mem- 
ories of loved ones far 
away. How fortunate 
she did not then know 
that that baby boy, 
eighteen years there- 
after, would be on 
that very spot to take 
part in one of the most terrific struggles of modern 
times.* 

Fifty miles above Port Hudson the Red River 
pours its reddish w^ater into the Mississippi, and this 
tributary, forty miles above its mouth, receives the 
dark blue waters of the Ouachita. These two rivers. 
Red and Ouachita, recede from one another north- 
ward and cross the north boundary of the state more 
than a hundred miles apart. That part of Louisiana 
lying between these two rivers is what we call *' North 
Central Louisiana." It comprises about one-fifth of 




* At Jackson, La., which is about twelve miles from Port Hudson, was 
Centenary College, a splendid and noted institution before the Civil 
War. It is now located in Shreveport. 



78 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 

the state, is a high upland region, and is well tim- 
bered; and through it flow numberless branches and 
creeks of clear sweet water. Many of these streams 
rise in Claiborne Parish, which is adjacent to Arkan- 
sas and on the dividing ridge between the two bor- 
dering rivers. 

The most fertile lands in the state are the valleys of 
its great rivers, and it may seem queer that the set- 
tlers (English) from the older states did not secure 
places in these richer districts. That they did not do 
so, as a rule, is due to two causes: (1) they naturally 
sought a country more or less like that from which 
they came, and this they found in North-Central 
Louisiana, with its hills and valleys, clear running 
streams, and springs or wells of pure water; (2) they 
feared the river lands would not be healthful. While 
the highlands were not as fertile as the lowlands, 
they had a rich virgin soil and many beautiful and 
productive upland valleys. Here was the promise of 
health, pleasure, and at least a plenty of products. 

Uncle W^ash's objective point was some place in 
Claiborne Parish, and his route lay up the Red River 
to Shreveport, and thence sixty miles east by wagons 
into the very heart of "the promised land." Landing 
at Shreveport, which was then a small town, he 
pitched camp on the spot (then in the woods) where 
the Majestic Theater now stands. 



UP THE RED RIVER 



79 



From the very first, Shreveport has had all the ac- 
cessories necessary to a steady and healthy growth. 
It lies at the head of navigation on the Red River, is 
the center of a most fertile region, was a frontier sup- 
ply point for eastern Texas (then Mexico), and later 
became the beneficiary of immense oil beds and the 
largest gas field in America. Fortunately its citizens 
have had the patriotism and the good business judg- 
ment to make the best use of their superb opportuni- 
ties. From a small pioneer village of two or three 
stores, as Nick first saw the place, it has expanded 
into a magnificent city of 35,000 
population, having ninety-five in- 
dustries and seventy-five wholesale 
houses, forty-two miles of paved 
streets, eleven million dollars of 
bank deposits and eleven lines of 
railroads, together with public 
buildings, churches, 
and schoolhouses un 
surpassed in architec 
ture and equipments 




80 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 

Uncle Wash, having secured the necessary teams 
and wagons, crossed the Red River and started east 
on the "home stretch" of the long journey. He soon 
discovered that the road in the swamp was unlike 
any he had seen in the older states. As the wagon 
and oxen sank deep into the soft red mud, Uncle 
Nathan remarked, "Dis road don't 'pear to have no 
bottom." The swamp of the Red River is about ten 
miles wide, and was then almost impassable on ac- 
count of the many bogs and unbridged sloughs. 
These places, according to a saying of the settlers, 
"would bog the shadow of a buzzard." But the in- 
stant the situation became strenuous. Uncle Wash 
became alert and settled into the grim reserve that 
characterizes the man who takes any enterprise se- 
riously, be it work or play. 

The whole day was occupied in crossing the 
swamp. Just as the sun was setting, the travelers, 
wet, tired, muddy and hungry, reached the piny up- 
lands which form the eastern boundary of the great 
valley. Here they went into camp, and began at 
once to "clean up" and "dry up" — ridding the stock 
and wagon of mud and themselves of wet and muddy 
clothes. This "task of ablution and abstersion" be- 
ing performed, and a frugal but hearty meal eaten. 
Uncle Wash stretched himself out on his improvised 
bed of cane tops and blankets. 



UP THE RED RIVER 



81 




"My dear," said Aunt Martha, "you have cer- 
tainly earned a night's repose. Your day's work has 
been hard and steady, and few could have managed 
it all so well." 

"Martha," he answered, "often the only, and al- 
ways the surest, way of doing a thing is by plugging 
away at it. That's my principle in life. Keep at it. 
In work, as in hunting, that's the way to win. True, 
the wav is hard, but overcoming difficulties is the 



82 THE STORY OF A WESTWARD MOVE 

glorious part of it. If success comes easy, we care but 
little for it; if it comes hard, we never forget the ways 
and means. I believe the real value of a thing to 
anyone is to be measured by the labor and skill it 
cost that one to get it." 

Early the next morning the party moved on into 
the dense woods. What there was of road, though 
narrow and rough, was at least firm, a quality of the 
soil that is always appreciated by the traveler, espe- 
cially just after crossing a "bottomless swamp." 
Thirty miles from Shreveport they crossed the Bayou 
Dorchete, which in season is navigable up to Min- 
den. Beyond this stream the surface of the land was 
more elevated and undulating, having an average 
altitude of 200 feet above sea level and countless hills 
and valleys running in every direction. 

Far in the interior of North-Central Louisiana is 
a pretty little stream, called Parker's Creek. On the 
banks of this perennially flowing streamlet a pioneer 
had made a settlement consisting of a few cabins and 
a field of twenty acres. Desiring to move farther 
west so as to get "more elbow room," he "sold out" 
to Uncle Wash, who took immediate possession. 
With the cabins renovated and enlarged and more 
land opened. Uncle Wash stayed here two years 
and then moved to a new and better place, as de- 
scribed in the opening chapter of this book. 



CHAPTER IV 
THE STORY OF A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 

Uncle Wash Moves from Cane Ridge 

Early in the year 1853 Uncle Wash moved to a 
place some fifteen miles west of Cane Ridge. His 
main object was to get in a neighborhood which gave 
promise of maintaining a good school. Nick, now in 
his ninth year, went with Aunt Kitty in the ox wagon, 
of which Uncle Nathan was the driver. The rest of 
the party, having faster teams, went on ahead. Nick 
had Step, the fice, with him. 

The boy was wild with joy, thrilled with visions 
of coming scenes and events. Nothing along the way 
escaped his notice. Here and there were branches 
whose clear water flowed over pretty pebbles with a 
sweet murmur. A hornet's nest, shaped like a water- 
melon, hung from the limb of an oak, and away up in 
the top of a tall pine an eagle's nest looked grand and 
lonely. In the bark of many beech trees were long 
scratches made by bears in climbing for beechnuts. 
Now and then Aunt Kitty gave Nick a ginger-cake 

STORIES OF DIXIE. — G 83 



84 A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 

smeared with jam. They stopped to get some water 
at the Sulphur Springs, and Aunt Kitty remembered 
this as the place where old Bee, the buggy mule, once 
got into a yellow jacket's nest. 

Nick often got out of the wagon and played with 
Step along the road. Now and then a rabbit sprang 
out of its hiding place and Step chased it off into the 
woods. At one time Step set up a furious barking in 
the bushes near the road, and all hands went to see 
what it was about. Step had found an enemy and 
looked as if he was about to charge it, but he was 
very careful to keep at a safe distance from the ob- 
ject of his wrath. It was a monster rattlesnake, as 
large around as a man's arm, wound into a great 
coil, and making a hideous noise with its rattles as if 
warning everybody to keep away. Uncle Nathan 
killed it with a stick. There were eighteen rattles 
on the end of its tail, which showed, according to the 
settler's rule, that it was eighteen years old. 

Here and there new settlements were to be seen. 
People were then moving into North-Central Louis- 
iana at a rapid rate. They came mostly from Ala- 
bama and Georgia, but there were many from all the 
Southern states, and a few from the North. These 
new settlers were active, pushing people, as settlers 
usually are. That they have a purpose to better their 
condition, and the industry necessary to undertake it, 




UNCLE WASH MOVES 85 

is shown by their very presence in the vanguard of 
civihzation. 

The long stillness of the woods was being broken 
by the hum of in- 
dustry; the merry 
song of the ham- 
mer and the sweet 
, rasp of the saw, 
mingled with the 
cheering crow of 
the rooster and the stirring "gee" and "haw" of 
the plowman. The smoke from burning logs and 
brush hovered over the "new-grounds," and the 
air was redolent with the odor of fresh burnt woods. 
The ax and the maul, the hoe and the plow, were 
invading the dominion of bears and panthers, wolves 
and catamounts. Indeed, these wild animals had al- 
most disappeared; only a few straggling ones could 
be seen now and then. 

Among other things that had disappeared were wild 
pigeons. While Uncle Wash was living at Cane Ridge 
they came annually, sometimes appearing in droves 
of thousands. Nick often saw flocks of them so large 
as to darken the heavens like great black clouds. 
They roosted at night on bushes, and kept up such a 
clamor that they could be heard a mile or more. Near 
the road was a grove of very crooked pine trees. 



86 



A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 



'OOS 




Pointing to it Unele Nathan 
said, ''Dat was once a pigin 
; de pigins bent 'em up 
dat way roos'in on 'em 
when dey was pine 
bushes." 

In those days there 
were many violent 
storms in that 
^_^^ section, the 
wrecks of which 
are still to be seen in many places. Early in the af- 
ternoon Nathan, looking up into the skies, said: '.'I 
do b'leve we's gwine to have a storm." Sure enough, 
after a while, dark clouds began to roll over their 
heads; then came flashes of lightning and distant 
peals of thunder. Even the oxen seemed to know 
that a storm was coming, for they struck a quicker 
gait, as if wishing to get out of the tall timber as 
soon as they could. 

The storm was just bursting upon them as they 
reached the new settlement of Mr. McClendon. He 
saw the wagon coming, and running to it as fast as 
he could he told Nathan to drive the team into an 
open place just ahead, grasped Nick with one hand 
and Aunt Kitty with the other, and ran to a stout 
log cabin that was occupied by his family. His larger 



UNCLE WASH MOVES 87 

log residence was not then finished. Everybody was 
soon huddled in the cabin. As the storm grew in 
uproar and vehemence, all became more frightened. 
It is queer that people who are ordinarily fearless will 
cower and tremble in the presence of a storm. In their 
eagerness to get into the safest place possible the men 
made an opening in the floor by removing two punch- 
eons, and through this opening all hands, white and 
black, went under the house. The storm raged and 
roared. It was hard to tell which was the louder, the 
howl of the winds or the roar of the thunder. 

Ahtr a while the storm passed away, leaving be- 
hind it a wide area of blown-down trees. Had the 
cabin been in the main path, it would have been 
swept away. Fortunately no one was hurt, but the 
place was almost hemmed in by fallen timber. Mr. 
McClendon at once sent a runner to inform Uncle 
Wash that "the folks, team, and wagon were all 
right." Such was the kindness with which the settlers 
treated one another, especially in time of trouble or 
sickness. 

xAfter the storm, for some distance the wagon made 
slow progress, because Uncle Nathan often had to 
stop to clear the road of logs and tree-tops. Late 
in the afternoon they passed the home of Mr. Tippit, 
and there Nick saw two things he never saw before: 
brick chimneys and glass windows. 



88 



A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 




Progressive Develop- 
ment 

They reached their 
new home after dark. 
Uncle Wash had been 
there the year before 
and built several of the necessary houses. They 
were not finished except as to walls, roofs, and 
floors. It was too late to put up beds; so all slept 
on mattresses laid on the floors, and being tired, they 
slept soundly. Uncle Wash woke them early the 
next morning, for he knew there was much to be 
done. 

The residence was an eight-room house, having 
brick chimneys and glass windows, a wide hall, and 
a wide gallery in front. The other buildings and 
appurtenances, — kitchen, dairy, pantry, smokehouse, 
negro quarters, shops, ginhouse, cotton press, garden, 



PROGRESSIVE DEVELOPMENT 89 

barns, horse lot, stalls, cow pen, and fields — were 
located according to a systematic plan. The three 
main objects of this orderly arrangement were con- 
venience, cleanliness, and attractiveness. The negro 
quarters consisted of two long rows of comfortable 
cabins separated by a "street" two hundred and fifty 
feet wide. The "big house" was at one end of this 
street and the shops at the other. 

The number of negroes had very much increased. 
Some of the new ones had been bought, but the most 
of them came from the estate of Uncle Wash's 
father. Among these latter was old Uncle Jack, the 
first negro ever owned by Nick's grandfather. 

"Martha," said Uncle Wash to his wife at the 
breakfast table, "I know the houses are not finished, 
but they have good roofs and will do to live in for a 
while. The main work to be done is clearing the land 
and raising a crop. So I'm going to put all hands to 
doing this work." 

"Now, dear," replied Aunt Martha, "that is all 
right if you will let me have Uncle Jack. With him, 
Kittie, Caroline, Mary and the boys (her sons Mat, 
Nick, and Tate), I can begin to put things in order 
about the house, dairy, kitchen, and smokehouse." 

"That can be done for the present," said Uncle 
Wash, "but I will soon need the boys to work with 
the 'trash gang.'" 



90 A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 

Anyone, male or female, who did full work on the 
farm was called a "hand." But there was always 
certain light work that the children could do, and the 
boys and girls so assigned formed what was called the 
"trash gang." 

So Aunt Martha began work indoors with the 
"house gang," and Uncle Wash outdoors with the 
hands and the "trash gang." 

Uncle Wash believed in making his sons work. At 
every stage of their growth, when they were not in 
school, tasks were assigned them regularly in the fields 
and shops. His chief object was to school them in use- 
ful ways and habits. In common with thousands he 
thought that most of the best and greatest men in 
this world have toiled at the workbench and plow. 

Few people know how much hard work it takes to 
change a heavy-timbered tract of land into a complete 
field. The way Uncle Wash had it done was, briefly, 
as follows : 

1. Deaden all the large timber with axes. 

2. Cut the logs into ten-foot pieces, and roll the 
pieces into "log heaps." 

3. Cut down all the bushes and saplings, trim up 
the larger ones, and pile the poles and brush into 
"brush-heaps." 

4. Burn the log-heaps and brush-heaps as soon as 
possible. 



PROGRESSIVE DEVELOPMENT 



91 



5. Cut rail timber, split it into rails, and 
build a worm fence around the field. Wire 
fences were not then in existence. V|^ 

6. Plow the ground thoroughly, using -jf^ 
"colters" at the first plowing to cut 
the roots. 

Not many landscapes are more un- 
sightly than a *' new-ground" just after 
its first plowing. In the midst of 
stumps and deadened trees, and 
tangles of roots 
and briers, 
clods and frag- 
ments of up- 
turned turf be- - - 
strew the earth 

not unlike molten rocks in a desert plain, 
best a discouraging prospect. 

One day as they were looking over the rough 
and ragged scene, Aunt Martha said to Uncle Wash, 
"After all that has been done, how much more hard 
work it will take to put this in a tillable state. It is 
enough to dishearten one. I don't see how you can 
be so cheerful about it." 

"Martha," answered he, "I have not much educa- 
tion, but I do know that everything in this world 
that's worth while comes by hard work. If we keep 




It is at 



92 A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 

plugging away at it, success will come after a while. 
In the meantime, it looks like nature comes in to help 
us. We will be helped by the winds in felling these 
trees, by decay in destroying these roots and stumps, 
and by the sun and rain in pulverizing these clods." 

Uncle Wash often illustrated a point with a story. 
So now he said, 

"I think there is a fine moral in the old story about 
Uncle Zeke. Having been asked if his prayers were 
ever answered, he replied, 'It's owin' to de natur of 
de pertition. You see it's like dis: when I prays to de 
Lawd to send me one of de boss's fat chickens, de 
chicken don't come; but when I prays to de Lawd to 
send me atter de chicken, de chicken is sho to git 
dar fo' day.' 

"That is," said Uncle Wash, "the Lord helps those 
who do most of the work themselves." 

A mile west of Uncle Wash's new place was the 
beginning of a little village, called Forest Grove. It 
began with a schoolhouse and a store, the post office 
being located in the latter. In a few years it be- 
came the center of a prosperous neighborhood, and in 
the meantime a large church, and wood and black- 
smith shops were added. 

The land in this section was more or less level, just 
hilly and rolling enough to afford good drainage. 
Many clear running branches flowed through it, and 



PROGRESSIVE DEVELOPMENT 93 

these, coming together, formed beautiful creeks. 
The land was easily tilled, and on it a variety of 
crops could be grown. In a few ^-ears many well-to- 
do farmers settled in the community. They raised 
cotton chiefly, but also enough corn, oats, potatoes, 
and meat for home use. They were kind and polite 
to guests and strangers. No one passing through the 
country, whether rich or poor, was charged anything 
for a night's entertainment. 

To show how little the men and boys knew or 
cared for fashion, a funny incident may be related 
here. When Uncle Wash lived at Cane Ridge he and 
Dr. Kidd had a little store, and on severing the part- 
nership each took half of the goods. Uncle Wash 
thus came to have three silk hats. 

Failing to sell these *' two-story" hats, and see- 
ing that no one desired them, he said to his wife, 
''Martha, the boys need new Sunday hats, and it 
seems to me that we can supply them, and at the 
same time avoid expense, by giving them the three 
silk hats." 

Now Martha, having a great deal of Irish humor 
as well as Irish blood, at once saw how absurd and 
yet how funny it would be. So, hiding a smile, she 
said, "All right, my dear, if you desire it." 

Nick was about eleven years old, but there was no 
trouble in fitting him, as his head was quite large for 



94 



A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 




his age. Paper had to be put in the other two hats 
to make them small enough. 

The next Sunday the boys arrayed themselves 

in homespun suits, 
brogan shoes, and 
"two-story" silk 
hats. Thus attired 
they went to church. 
Mat riding one mule 
and Tate riding be- 
hind Nick on an- 
other. Arriving at 
the church, they dis- 
mounted, hitched the 
mules to the trees, and walked abreast toward the 
building. They squared their shoulders and stepped 
proudly when they saw that they were the "observed 
of all observers." 

The reader must not infer that Nick was a typical 
boy of Dixie on that occasion, for it is probable that 
no other boys of the land were ever rigged out in that 
wa}^ before or since. 

Every farmer had negroes, more or less. As a rule, 
they were well cared for, partly because they were 
valuable property, but mostly on account of the per- 
sonal* regard the whites had for them. In the case of 
old family servants this regard amounted to real 



PROGRESSIVE DEVELOPMENT 95 

love, on the part of both the whites and the blacks. 
In this community there were exacting but no cruel 
masters. A place was reserved for the negroes in the 
church, and the two races thus worshipped together 
every Sunday. The writer never saw an exception to 
this statement by Henry W. Grady: "The one char- 
acter utterly condemned and ostracised was the man 
who was mean to his slaves. For the cruel master, 
there was no toleration." 

Year by year the neighborhood improved in every 
way. The country was becoming pretty thickly 
settled by civil and industrious people. Follow^ing 
them came better roads and bridges, brickyards and 
lumber mills, improved stock and vehicles, finer 
houses and better churches, better schoolhouses and 
schools, and many comforts unknown in pioneer life. 

Every man went to church on Sunday, w earing his 
best clothes, driving his best team, and putting on 
his best airs. At the church the mules and horses 
were hitched to the trees, the w^omen went at once 
into the building, and the men gathered in front of it, 
talked of the crops, related personal ''stunts," 
cracked jokes, and chewed tobacco. These per- 
formances were presently disturbed by the singing 
within of some old hymn, as: — 

"When I can read my title clear 
To mansions in the skies. 



96 



A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 




I'll bid farewell to every fear 
And wipe my weeping eyes." 

This was the signal for all to come in, and in they 
went, hats off, heads up, and eyes to the front. Each 
looked as if he felt that he was the center of observa- 
tion. 



PROGRESSIVE DEVELOPMENT 97 

The sermons were usually of an hour's length, and 
on "big occasions" two hours. They were fluent, 
earnest, and thoughtful. Now and then the climaxes 
(oral) rose to such heights as to disturb the naps of 
the old folks. 

After the services, all assembled on the lawn in 
front of the church and there was a regular epidemic 
of handshaking, " howdying," and chatting. It 
seemed as if everybody was trying to get everybody 
else to "go home with them to dinner." All stran- 
gers and visitors were specially looked after, and if 
any failed to be well cared for it was his own fault. 

"Ben," said John as they rode off together, "why 
are people so talkative just after coming out of 
church.^" 

"It seems to me," said Ben, "that talk just nat- 
urally flows out of some people like water out of a 
spring, and when they have to be silent for a bit, as 
in a church, it dams up their stream of talk, and the 
supply thus accumulates until their reservoirs are 
chock-full. When the bars to speech are removed the 
flood gates are opened and the pent-up talk pours 
forth like compressed steam from a mud- valve." 

"And the worst of it is," replied John, "no matter 
what they begin to talk about they always end with 
talking about themselves." 



98 A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 

The Forest Grove School 

The school at Forest Grove kept pace with the 
rapid march of progress everywhere to be seen. In 
comparison with the Cane Ridge school there were 
now better books, finer equipments, and fitter teach- 
ers. Chief among these books were Davies's arith- 
metics. Smith's grammar, Mitchell's geographies, 
McGuffey's readers, and Webster's speller. The 
switch was still used, but not so much as in the 
Cane Ridge school. Under the old regime the master 
went at it as if it were a manly and heroic feat; now 
the teacher prefaced his floggings by the declaration: 
"I do this from a sense of duty, and I assure you it 
does not hurt you one whit more than it does me." 

"So we boys and girls," said Mark, "were bound to 
admit that it was mighty good in him to take such 
an interest in us, yet we could have wished him less 
ready to sacrifice himself." The new plan of ruling 
pupils by "moral suasion" was much spoken of and 
strongly advocated by persons of "progressive edu- 
cational ideas." An old-time teacher speaking of it 
said: "There are cases it will not reach, but you 
put the rod to them and they will hustle like a ter- 
rapin with a coal of fire on his back." 

There were no public schools then as we have them 
now. The patrons, and not the state, employed the 



THE FOREST GROVE SCHOOL 99 

teachers and paid them for their services. The tui- 
tion fees were $2, $3, and $4 per month, according 
as the pupil was in a lower or higher class. The state 
paid the school a small sum, and each patron's pro 
rata share of this "public money" was deducted 
from his tuition bill. 

The school "took in" at 8 o'clock a. m., and 
" turned out " at 5 o'clock p. M. In the morning about 
10 and in the afternoon about 3:30 there was a short 
recess. From 12 to 1:30 was "dinner time" and 
"play time." The playground of the boys was in 
front of the schoolhouse and that of the girls was in the 
rear of it. The games played by the boys were town 
ball, bull pen, roly hole, mumble the peg, marbles, 
hats, broad and high jumps, three jumps, and "half 
hammon." Another favorite game was "deer." The 
boy who could run fastest and longest usually played 
deer, and all the others were the dogs. The dogs would 
pursue the deer through the near-by fields and woods, 
and the chase often lasted during the entire play time. 

Up to that time few countries ever sent a greater 
proportion of their sons to college than did the South. 
The favorite colleges were Yale, Princeton, and the 
University of Virginia, though many excellent ones 
nearer home were liberally patronized. Man^^ of 
these bright young graduates began life as teachers, 
expecting later on to take up the study and practice 

STORIES OF DIXIE. — 7 



100 A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 

of law, medicine, or engineering. Three of these, 
Griggs, Simmons, and Boring, were the successive 
principals of the Forest Grove school, and they were 
men of ability and culture. 

With them the chief end of education was culture, 
and the basis of all culture was good spelling, reading, 
and writing. Every student, however high his studies 
or standing, had to recite once a day in the "big 
spelling class." The written tests in any subject were 
"deficient" unless the spelling and writing were good. 
This is illustrated in the following incident: 

Nick and two other lads, Toab and Charlie, were 
studying elementary algebra. At a certain recitation 
Toab was sent to the board to solve a problem about 
dividing an estate between a widow, two sons, and 
three daughters. According to the requirements he 
wrote the solution in full, with much regard for form, 
clearness, spelling, and punctuation. But with all 
his care he made the mistake of writing "wider" for 
widow. 

"Toab," said the teacher, "I am surprised to see 
that you do not know how to spell widow." 

Toab at once erased "wider," and with an air 
which seemed to say, "Of course I know better than 
that," wrote "widor." 

"Charles," said the teacher, "go to the board and 
show Toab how to spell widow." 



THE FOREST GROVE SCHOOL 101 

Charles was a vain fellow, and thinking he had a 
sure thing of it, strutted up to the board, erased 
"widor" and wrote "widder." 

"Nick, go and show those ignorant boys how to 
spell widow," ordered the teacher. 

Now Nick thought his time of triumph had come, 
because he could not conceive of more than one 




other way in which the thing could be done. So he 
stepped boldly forward, erased "widder" and wrote 
"widdor." 

It is safe to say that, after that impressive school- 
ing, those boys never forgot how to spell that highly 
respected word. 

The funniest stories are those of incidents which 
actually occurred, like the above and the following 
one, though they are never so funny in the telling 
as in the doing of the thing itself. 

One of the little fellows was given the word "squir- 
rel" to spell. He hesitated, because he did not know 



102 A TYPICAL NEIGHBORHOOD 

how to make a start, much less how to proceed after 
he had started. Being pressed by the teacher, and 
feehng that he just had to do it some way or another, 
he made a pass at it by exclaiming, "sque-didle-dy." 

Every Friday afternoon the students, large and 
small, had to "speak." Nowadays it is called recit- 
ing. Occasionally it was "public Friday," at which 
times the parents and the public were invited to at- 
tend. On these public occasions the boys and girls 
wore their Sunday clothes, and were washed and 
dressed beyond a state of naturalness and comfort. 
There were reserved seats for the guests. The master 
called out the speakers, one at a time, beginning with 
the smallest. 

Each speech began and ended with a "bow," — 
often a quick nod or jerk of the head, as if the speaker 
wished to get through with the performance as soon 
as possible. None had been trained in the "art of 
expression," yet many bowed gracefully, and spoke 
deliberately, clearly, and impressively. The program 
was about as follows: 

1. A boy. "I like to see the growing grass. 

Before the farmer mows it, 
I like to see the pacing horse 
'Cause when he goes he goes it." 

2. A girl. "I had a little bunty hen. 

Which mama gave to me, 



THE FOREST GROVE SCHOOL 



103 



Every day she laid two eggs, 
And Sunday she laid three." 

9. A boy. "The boy stood on the burning deck, 

Whence all but him had fled," and so 
on. 

10. A girl. "I met a little cottage girl, 

She was eight years old, she said," etc. 

19. A boy. ''On Linden when the sun was low. 

All bloodless lay the untrod'n snow." 

20. A girl. "Stay, jailer, stay, and hear my woe," 

etc. 

49. A boy. "They tell us that we are weak," etc. 

50. A girl. "There 
was a sound of ^^^ U/^^^ 
revelry by <^:>fM)^^. 
night," etc. 

Some very funny 
things happened at OT^f^^ ^^ -^ 
these speakings. P^^^^^^^ \ 

Little Charlie once %fiH!^-4 ''"^^-'^V ""^^ 






began and ended as r^"'^^""^^'--^-\)i~^3jl y7 
follows: ^ =^'-- "^^^^ 

"I like to see a little dog. 
And pat him on the — Oh! — Oh! — " 

Thus breaking down, he stammered, "Oh! Mr. 
Boring, everybody is looking right straight at me." 



CHAPTER V 
THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 

Typical of Dixie 

As before stated, North-Central Louisiana was 
settled by English-speaking people — those whose 
forefathers came from England, Ireland, or Scotland. 
Few new countries were ever blessed with a better 
class of citizens. They came from all parts of the 
South, attracted by the salubrity of the region, the 
fertility of the soil, and the abundance of pure water, 
timber, and game. Each of the older states of Dixie 
was represented there by hundreds of its best men 
and women. Probably no other section of the South 
was so typical of Dixie as a whole. There the Vir- 
ginian, the South Carolinian, the Kentuckian, and 
the Georgian came together, bringing and blending 
their ideals, manners, and customs. It was Dixie 
in a nutshell. 

Many towns and cities have crooked streets, owing 
to their having been built along winding roads or 
streams. This was not the case with Homer, the 
county seat of Claiborne Parish. It was located "at 

104 



TWO GOOD SIGNS 105 

the center of the parish." Fortunately the site thus 
determined (seven miles west of Forest Grove) was 
a beautiful one, and in the woods. There were no 
roads, streams, or buildings to interfere with an ideal 
plan, and the citizens had the good sense to lay off the 
town in square "blocks." Hence all the streets are 
straight and cross one another at right angles. The 
same good taste and judgment w^ere exercised in 
building the residences and gardens, so that Homer 
is now, and always has been, one of the prettiest and 
cleanest inland towns in the South. The courthouse, 
a two-story building surrounded by an imposing 
peristyle of massive columns, stands alone on the cen- 
tral square, and facing it on all sides are stores and 
oflfices, as in most Southern county seats. 

Two Good Signs 

Two of the best signs of an alert and progressive 
people are good roads and good schools. While these, 
in that section, were in many ways deficient, they 
were pretty good for a new country. The roads were 
worked regularly by the people at large, white and 
black, under the direction of an overseer appointed 
by the Police Jury. The streams were well bridged, 
and the roads through the swamps and low places, 
causewayed. In thinly settled districts the school- 



106 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 

houses were often crude and the schools poorly at- 
tended; but in the more prosperous neighborhoods 
the schools were similar to that of Forest Grove. 

That some of the schools were of high order is 
shown by the fact that many of the teachers were 
graduates of the best colleges of the country. Two of 
these principals were Edwin Fay, a graduate of Har- 
vard University, who subsequently became the State 
Superintendent of education, and David F. Boyd, a 
graduate of the University of Virginia, and after- 
wards President of the State University. 

This promising state of affairs was the outgrowth 
of a condition and a force which always make for 
good: (1) the people at large were sturdy and sensible; 
(2) there were among them many well educated and 
public-spirited men and women. That some of them 
were tasty, if not classic, is shown by the names they 
gave the towns and villages; such as Homer, Athens, 
Sparta, Lisbon, Minden, Vienna, Tulip, Trenton, 
Vernon, and Arcadia. 

The Gee Place 

Twelve miles east of Homer is an old place which 
has a history of more than local interest on account 
of its connection with certain noted men and events. 
This, known as the "Gee Place," has been the scene 



THE GEE PLACE 107 

of many a, gay party; and many a traveler, rich and 
poor, has found a hearty welcome within its walls. 

It was settled by Major James Dyer in 1822. He 
w^as an old soldier of the war of 1812, and was with 
General Jackson in the battle of New Orleans. 
Claiborne Parish was created at his suggestion and 
largely by his untiring efforts, and he was its first 
representative in the state legislature. On account 
of his witty, wise, and terse sayings, he was known 
as the Benjamin Franklin of the parish. He came 
from Missouri to Louisiana. 

The most noted brigand that ever figured in the 
land of Dixie was John Murel, and he had much to 
do, in an indirect way, with making the Gee Place 
an ideal old Southern home. His home was in 
Tennessee, but he was the leader of a large band of 
robbers who stole and sold negroes, horses, and cattle 
all up and down the Mississippi Valley. There were 
gangs of these robbers at different places — in the 
towns and woods and on the islands in the rivers — 
and these gangs helped one another in disposing of 
the plunder. 

Murel was a dashing, fine-looking fellow, fairly 
well educated, and a good speaker. He knew much 
about the Bible, and when it suited his wicked pur- 
poses he pretended to be a preacher. Frequently 
he preached to assemblies, large and small, and while 



108 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 



the people were enjoying his "fine sermons" on good 
morals and high ideals his men crept up out of the 
woods and stole their horses. 

S. P. Gee was born and reared in Tennessee. He 

was a bright and well 
educated man, and began 
life as a teacher. While 
yet a young man he 
moved to Mississippi, 
and settled near Rocky 
Springs, a few miles east 
of Vicksburg. There he 
met the beautiful Miss 
Brock, a daughter of one 
of Mississippi's wealthy planters. Each was at- 
tracted by the good qualities of the other, and they 
became man and wife. 

Many good men desired to bring Murel to trial 
and break up his band of robbers. But they failed 
to do so, probably on account of the lack of any 
definite proof as to Murel's guilt, and also because 
Murel had many friends who would probably have 
resented his prosecution. Now Mr. Gee had a brave 
young friend named Stewart, to whom he said, 

"Stewart, it is not always the things that can be 
demonstrated of which we are the most sure. I am 
confident that Murel is a very bad and dangerous 




THE GEE PLACE 109 

man, and if you will get the proofs of it I will prose- 
cute him." 

"All right," said Stewart, "I'll do the best I can," 
and straightway started on his hazardous under- 
taking. After many unsuccessful attempts, and be- 
lieving that "the end justified the means" he joined 
Murel's clan, took the oath, and was given their 
secret passwords and grips. He then visited several 
of their camps and learned all about them. 

He brought back such reports of the large number 
of men in the service of Murel that Mr. Gee laid the 
matter before the governor of the state, and asked 
him for the help of the state militia in arresting the 
outlaws. So Murel was arrested, tried, convicted, 
and sentenced to the penitentiary. But Gee and 
Stewart had to leave the state to avoid being killed 
by some of Murel's men. Mr. Gee sold his property 
and took his wife to some city in the North. After 
living there a year he went into the wilds of North 
Louisiana and bought the Dyer place in 1836. One 
of Murel's men followed him even to this secluded 
spot, and would have killed him had it not been for 
the brave and timely help of one of Mr. Gee's negro 
men. 

Mr. Gee became one of the wealthiest men in 
North-Central Louisiana. He built a beautiful 
home, and surrounded it with pretty gardens, flowers, 



110 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 



and walks. His large farm was a model in all that 
goes to make a farm attractive and productive. The 
roads through it reminded one of paved streets, and 
even along the fences and branches there were no 
weeds or bushes. The spacious barns seemed burst- 




ing with corn and fodder, and the horses, cows, and 
hogs looked as if they felt that way. There was 
everywhere a seeming rivalry between cleanliness 
and abundance. Here the traveler found rest and 
the hungry food, and that "without money and 
without price." 

Mr. Gee died in 1863, and after his death Mrs. 



THE GEE PLACE 111 

Gee told Mr. Hilley, her son-in-law, the following 
story, making him promise not to repeat it to any- 
one during her lifetime. The story is in relation to 
two of Mr. Gee's friends. Major McEnery and Dr. 
Egan, with whom the reader should have some ac- 
quaintance in order to appreciate it. 

Major McEnery was a Virginian, a ripe scholar, 
and an able lawyer. He served in the war of 1812, 
being the major of a regiment. Subsequently he 
moved to Louisiana, and settled in Monroe, where he 
practiced his profession. He was the father of John 
and Samuel McEnery, both of whom became gov- 
ernors of the state. 

Dr. Bartholomew Egan was born in Ireland and 
educated at Trinity College, Dublin. He was learned 
in the classics and also in the science and art of 
medicine. He was brought to this country by 
Thomas Jefferson to be a professor in the University 
of Virginia. Later on, he began the practice of 
medicine, and became the surgeon of the regiment 
of which McEnery was the major. Some time 
after the war he moved to North-Central Louisiana, 
where he lived and died. He was the father of Hon. 
W. B. Egan, one of the supreme judges of the state, 
and also of Dr. J. C. Egan, a noted physician of 
Shreveport. 

One cold winter afternoon, away back in the 



112 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 

forties, according to Mrs. Gee's story, she. Dr. 
Egan, and Mr. Gee, were seated by a warm fire in 
her parlor. There was a "hello" at the front gate, 
and Mr. Gee, on going out, was rejoiced to see his 
old friend Major McEnery. As they walked toward 
the house Mr. Gee casually stated that Dr. Egan 
had also stopped to spend the night. 

The major, halting, said, "Then, you must excuse 
me; I shall go on to the next place." 

"You will do nothing of the kind," said Mr. Gee. 
"I did not know of any difference between you and 
the doctor. If there is any, I can put you in separate 
rooms." 

"No," said the major, "I would not put you to 
that trouble. I will go in the room where Dr. Egan 
is, if you and Mrs. Gee will not be offended by my 
ignoring him altogether." 

In the meantime Dr. Egan, looking through the 
window, saw Mr. Gee and the major enter the front 
gate, and at once said to Mrs. Gee, "If Major 
McEnery comes into this room, you and Mr. Gee 
must permit me to ignore him entirely." 

Mr. Gee went alone into the room, had a short 
conference with his wife and the doctor, and return- 
ing to the major said, "It is all right, major; come 
in." 

Seated around a cheerful fire the party talked. 



THE GEE PLACE 



113 



told stories, and laughed; but neither the doctor 
nor the major made any reply (and seemingly paid 
no attention) to an^^thing the other said. This con- 
duct continued at the table, during the evening, and 
the next morning until the visitors left. 




Major McEnery was the last to leave; taking his 
host by the hand, he said, "I owe you and Mrs. 
Gee an apology, and I ask you to receive my state- 
ment in confidence. Dr. Egan and I were friends in 
Virginia, and served in the same regiment. We had 
a quarrel; it led to a duel between us; there was 
one exchange of shots; each of us called for another; 
our seconds said that was enough; we separated 



114 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 

without being restored to friendship, and so the 
matter has stood ever since." 

Soon after Mrs. Gee's death Mr. Hilley, who now 
resides in Shreveport, told Nick the story of the Gee 
Place. Many, many years after that, Samuel 
McEnery became governor of the state. One day 
Nick went into the governor's office, and finding 
him alone, related to him the story of the singular 
meeting of his father and Dr. Egan. 

The governor listened intently to Nick until he 
finished, and then said, 

"Nick, every word of that is true, but I did not 
think anyone knew anything about it except the 
older members of the two families. Soon after Dr. 
Egan and my father died their sons came together 
and agreed not to prolong the feud of their fathers. 
So the matter was dropped and forgotten, and there 
are now no closer or warmer friends in the state than 
the sons of those two good men." 

A Peaceful and Prosperous Land 

Eight public roads started from Homer and led 
in different directions, not unlike spokes diverging 
from the hub of a wheel. Along these thorough- 
fares, for miles and miles, were beautiful homes and 
prosperous farms, many of them resembling and 



A PEACEFUL AND PROSPEROUS LAND 115 



rivaling the Gee Place in appearance and magnitude, 
resources and hospitality. The residences, standing 
in the center of large grounds, nestled in swelling 
masses of semi-tropical plants and exotics of many a 
hue. Everywhere were the signs of an active, tasty, 
intelligent, and practical population. 

The owners of these homes were not generally 
men of high academic culture, but with a "grammar- 
school education" they had that culture which comes 
from handling important affairs, reading current 
events of parish, state, and nation, associating 
with civil and well-to-do 
people, and aiming al- 
ways to play the role of 
"the gentleman 
all their dealings 
with their neighbors 
and slaves, and es- 
pecially with 
strangers. Of : 
course there 




STORIES OF DIXIE. — 8 



116 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 

were exceptions. Here, as elsewhere, were shiftless 
men and women, rowdies and blackguards. But, as 
a rule, the men who directed public affairs and 
molded public sentiment were upright, intelligent 
and forceful. Nor were such men confined to any 
particular walk of life. Men of brains and character 
were io be found among the lawyers and doctors, 
ministers and farmers, merchants, educators and ed- 
itors. A scholar who has read much and traveled 
more, and who knew that section of the state inti- 
mately as it was before the Civil War, recently said, 

"On the whole, I could have selected an abler 
body of men from North Louisiana in 1860 than I 
have ever seen assembled in the capital of any state, 
North or South." 

But the thrifty air of that once prosperous region 
has disappeared. The town (Homer) has improved, 
but the surrounding country has deteriorated in 
many ways. All rejoice in the freedom of the negro, 
yet it is a lamentable fact that a number of homes, 
improvements, and good old customs were swept 
away when slavery was abolished. 



RELIGION AND CHURCHES 117 

Religion and Churches 

When the complete history of the development of 
the country is written, no part of it will shine with 
greater splendor and none will furnish more ex- 
amples of self-sacrificing devotion to duty than 
the work wrought by the Christian ministers. In 
sunshine and in showers, often in hunger and in 
tattered clothes, traveling where there were no roads, 
and sleeping where there were no beds, they toiled 
for the spread of the gospel and the betterment 
of their fellow-creatures. With busybodies of this 
character northern Louisiana was blessed in every 
stage of its development. 

Churches sprang up in all the towns and villages 
and at some of the most frequented crossroads. 
Many of these houses of worship had their origin 
in brush arbors and crude log cabins, but, with the 
increase in population and wealth, they grew in 
size, equipments, and architectural design and finish. 
Few other sections of the country now have hand- 
somer and more costly church edifices. 

In influence and numbers the leading churches 
were the Methodist and the Baptist, and next to 
these came the Presbyterian. The ministers of these 
several sects were devout and zealous, some of them 
having abiUty of the highest order. With their 



118 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 

fluency of speech, logical skill, and imaginative force, 
they were always popular and instructive, and often 
overpowering in their pulpit efforts. A few of the 
more brilliant were Randle, Wafer, Cravens, Parker, 
Slack, Ford, Bright, Haislip, Moreland, and Harris.* 

In ideals, convictions, and habits the people were 
largely puritanic. Scarcely could a neighborhood 
be found in which dancing or card playing was 
practiced, and the observance of Sunday was almost 
universal. 

Of course there were exceptions, even among the 
better classes. The author cannot vouch for the 
following story as to fact, but it is true as to condi- 
tions; that is, it might have been. The persons 
named were well known to the writer, and it was like 
them to have done as represented. 

Brother John was a Georgian and a good Method- 
ist, and Brother Ben was a South Carolinian and a 
good Baptist. They were neighbors and friends, 
witty and full of good humor, good shots and fond 
of hunting, and withal representatives of two of the 
best families of the country. With respect to the 
observance of Sunday they were alike in that "while 
the spirit was willing the flesh was weak," especially 
during the "gobbling-season." 

* Rev. Harris was the father of the present brilliant State Superin- 
tendent of Education. 



RELIGION AND CHURCHES 119 

One bright Sunday morning Brothers Ben and 
John were riding along a country road on their way 
to church. The dew glistened on the grass and the 
birds sang in every tree. There was a touch of spring- 
time resurrection in the pure woodland air, and the 
bursting buds gave mute expression to the joy of 
life. A flock of wild turkeys was feeding in the 




woods, and, seeing the horsemen, struck a swinging 
trot and moved off like shadows to a near-by copse. 

Brothers Ben and John at once became silent, 
sucked their pipes hard and sent forth, under much 
pressure, wisps of smoke into the air. "John," 
said Brother Ben finally, "it has just occurred to 
me that I left the cows in the pen, and I must re- 
turn at once and let them out." 

Now Brother John, being left alone, also re- 
turned, taking a different route. Soon afterwards, 
Brother Ben, having obtained his gun, was crawling 



120 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 

along on his all-fours near where he had seen the 
turkeys, screening himself behind a large log in front 
of him. On reaching the log he heard a noise on 
the other side, and believing it to be caused by a 
turkey, peeped over; Brother John, also thinking 
that he was about to get a gobbler, peeped over 
from the other side, and the two gazed into each 
other's eyes. 

Being surprised and somewhat abashed both were 
silent for a moment, then broke into a hearty laugh. 
Brother John, with a merry twinkle in his eyes, 
took the other by the hand and said, "Brother Ben, 
let me congratulate you on joining the coterie of 
Louisiana gentlemen." 

In the same jocular tone and spirit Brother Ben 
replied, "Brother John, every South Carolinian likes 
to associate with gentlemen; indeed, speaking rev- 
erently, in that upper and better world to which I 
hope we are all going, I really have less desire to 
sit with the angels than to stand among the gentle- 



men." 



Introducing Oat 



Life in North-Central Louisiana had its humorous 
as well as its serious side. Probably the wisest advice 
Dickens ever gave the world was to "keep jolly." 
He himself was a public benefactor in that he so 



INTRODUCING OAT 



121 



often made the world laugh. It is well to grow to 
manhood or womanhood without losing a child's 
capacity for enjoyment, and this is what the people 
of that section largely did. One of the most familiar 
sounds in the house and on the farm, in the office or 
on the street, was hearty laughter. All classes seemed 
to be capable of joy without knowing the reason why. 
"Oh," once exclaimed a young lady, "I am just 
flooded with enthusiasm for — nobod}^ knows what." 

In such an atmosphere, as 
one would suppose, man}" wits 
and fun makers sprang up. 
Prominent among these was 
"Oat." As several of his 
jokes will be related in these 
chronicles, probably the 
reader would like to be- 
come somewhat 
quainted with him at 
the outset. His real 
name is Oatis 
A. Smith. He 
was born in 
Dadeville, Ala- 
bama, and later 
resided in Gor- 
don, Louisiana. 




122 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 

He is a good citizen, and was a splendid soldier 
in the Civil War. He is witty, always sees the funny 
side of a situation, and enjoys a practical joke, 
whether he is the perpetrator or the victim. 

Oat once went into the country to make some col- 
lections, and his trip led him into a region with which 
he was not familiar. There had been a great rainfall 
the night before, and the creeks and branches were 
swollen to inundation. He came to a wide expanse 
of water running across the road. Not knowing how 
deep it might be, and desiring to keep his shoes and 
socks dry, he alighted and pulled them off. He again 
mounted his horse, rode across safely, and was put- 
ting on his shoes when another man rode up and in- 
quired, 

"How is it, neighbor.'^" 

"Mighty bad," said Oat. 

"What would you advise me to do.^" asked the 
stranger. 

"Do just what I did," said Oat. "Get off your 
horse, pull off all your clothes, shoes, and socks, tie 
them into a bundle with your suspenders, and ride 
across, holding the bundle high over your head." 

"Well," said the fellow, "if I must I must," and he 
at once dismounted and began to " shuck " off his 
clothes. 

In the meantime Oat, having dressed, mounted his 



INTRODUCING OAT 123 

horse and rode away. But when out of sight, he hid 
his horse in the bushes, and went back unseen to 
watch the performance. 

The stranger followed the instructions with much 
regard for details. He mounted his horse, grasping 
its mane firmly with one hand, holding the bundle, 
aloft with the other; and pressing his heels to the 
sides of the steed, he ventured into the "rolling deep." 
But imagine his joy and also his chagrin, when he 
discovered that the place had a hard, firm, sandy 
bottom, and the water was not more than ten inches 
deep. 

Oat is now old in years but still young in buoyancy 
of spirits. That his love of jokes has not waned with 
the lapse of time is shown by the following incident, 
which occurred quite recently. 

In the vicinity of Gordon, where Oat Kves, there 
are a number of men and boys who are fond of hunt- 
ing. They are good shots and pride themselves on 
their good marksmanship. These hunters often as- 
semble at the village store, especially on a Saturday 
afternoon, bringing their guns and ammunition. Now 
Oat secured the skin of a squirrel, and had it nailed 
high up in a tall tree standing near the store. It 
was placed so that only small parts of the back and 
tail could be seen from any point of the grounds. 

The following Saturday the hunters turned out in 



124 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 



full force. An ally 
of Oat's looking 
quietly up the tall 
tree, h i s hands 
shading his eyes, 
said, "Boys, I do 
believe I see a 
squirrel up that 
tree." 

One of the hunt- 
ers, scanning the 
tree closely, said, 
"That certainly is 
a squirrel." 

The boys sprang 
instantly to their 
feet and made a 
rush for their guns, 
each anxious t o 
secure the prize, 
and still more anx- 
ious to display his 
marksmanship. 
^^"^ One shot after 

another rent the air, and bark, twigs, and leaves fell, 
but no squirrel. Then volley after volley followed, 
filling the air with smoke and fragments of bark and 




HOMER COLLEGE 125 

twigs. But to the wonder of the boys the squirrel 
was as immovable as the Rock of Gibraltar. 

"Boys," said one of the number, "that is the gol- 
darn-dest squirrel I ever tackled." 

Much powder and shot were wasted before it was 
found to be "one of Oat's tricks." 

Homer College 

Such was the boom in educational matters that 
the churches came to think that North-Central 
Louisiana needed and would support a college. So 
the following were founded : the Minden Female Col- 
lege, by the Presbyterians; the Mount Lebanon Male 
College, by the Baptists; and the Homer Male Col- 
lege, by the Methodists. These colleges had not as 
large or fine buildings as many of our present high 
schools; but at that time they were thought to be 
ample and grand. Some of these old buildings are 
still standing, and though out of style and repair, 
timeworn and weatherstained, they are splendid 
monuments to the high ideals of the men who founded 
them. 

Although they had no funds, except those derived 
from tuition fees, they did well and in a certain sense 
were great schools. In the male colleges there was 
only one course of study, and that was made up 



126 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 

chiefly of Latin, Greek, and Mathematics. The 
teaching of these subjects does not require the costly 
equipments (apparatus, laboratory, shops, and so 
forth) that are needed to teach the many practical 
courses in our great colleges of to-day. This explains 
why they could be great schools without much 
means. 

In those days people sent their sons to college to 
have their mental and moral natures trained, dis- 
ciplined, and refined, wath little thought as to how 
this culture could be turned to useful account, except 
in a general way. It was thought then that when a 
boy's mind was trained to think, compare, and reason 
he could easily learn the special things necessary to 
a lawyer, doctor, farmer, or any profession he might 
choose to follow. The following incident will illus- 
trate their view of the matter: 

In a certain town in Louisiana lived an eminent 
lawyer who, in conversation with a noted educator, 
said, "I have not the high appreciation of Latin, 
Greek, and Mathematics that I once had; I studied 
these things at the University of Virginia, but I have 
never had occasion to use them during my thirty 
years of experience as a lawyer." 

Pointing to a brick wall on the opposite side of the 
street, the educator replied, "My dear sir, you know 
that in building that wall they used scaffolding; where 



HOMER COLLEGE 



127 



is that scaffolding now? If that wall could speak, how 
foolish and how ungrateful it would be for it to say, 
*I have no use for scaf- 
folding; I have been stand- 
ing here thirty years and 
I have never had occasion 
to use it during that long 
time.'" 

"A great man once 
said," continued the edu- 
cator, "'if I should forget 
every fact and principle 
which I learned while at 
school and college I would 
not be a very poor man, 
but if I should lose the mental training which I ac- 
quired by the mastery of those facts I would be 
poor indeed.'" 

Nick entered Homer College on its opening day. 
His mother went with him, and in presenting him to 
the faculty said, "Put him where you think he be- 
longs; it is our purpose to keep him here until he 
graduates." Nick had been well prepared for college 
at the Forest Grove school. He stood the entrance 
examination and was assigned to the freshman class. 

He was not examined in English, geography, or 
history; but mostly in Latin, arithmetic, and algebra. 




128 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 

In Latin he had gone through the grammar, reader, 
Cicero, Csesar, and the iEneid of Virgil. The best way 
to learn English was then thought to be through and 
by means of Latin; hence much of the English taught, 
especially rhetoric and belles-lettres, came late in the 
course of study, after the student had been well 
grounded in Latin. 

There were no written tests as we have them to- 
day. When reciting, the class was seated on long 
benches in front of the teacher, and the students were 
quizzed or sent to the board one at a time, and were 
graded according to their answers. Examinations 
were public and conducted in the same way. The 
great assembly room of the college was often full of 
people on examination day, and one or more of the 
visitors, by request of the teacher, sometimes con- 
ducted the examination. 

The citizens of Homer were often amused, and 
probably sometimes annoyed, by the pranks of the 
college boys. One Sunday morning as the people 
were quietly passing through the courthouse square 
on their way to church, some strange sights came into 
view. It looked as if all the business men had sud- 
denly changed their places of business. A doctor's 
signboard was on a merchant's store, a saloon sign 
was on the post office, a lawyer's sign on a stable, the 
stable sign on the hotel, and so on. "That is the 



HOMER COLLEGE 129 

work of those mischievous college boys," said one of 
the party; and everybody smiled or laughed, thus 
confirming the statement of Haislip : " Man is the only 
creature that laughs, because he alone sees things as 
they are and as they should be." 

At one time Dan Rice's circus was coming to town, 
and orders were issued prohibiting the college boys 
from attending. The faculty thought it hurtful to 
good morals to go to such places. Nevertheless a 
large number of the students went, thinking or hop- 
ing that it might not become known to the college 
authorities. But the president was alert; he learned 
of the violation, and suspended the participants, 
thirty-six in all, for a period of two weeks. 

This outbreak, like many another prank of college 
life, was committed in mere wantonness of unex- 
pended vitality. Probably it would not have hap- 
pened had the pent up buoyancy of youth been re- 
lieved by some active duty or play. Many of those 
boys now sleep on the battlefields of the Civil War. 
Among the few still hving the writer recalls Black, ^ 
John, 2 and Will,^ all of whom have attained distinc- 
tion or competency in their several lines of work.* 

Nick's roommate, Sam Pursley, always took a 
hand in any mischief that was going on. On the 
night of the circus he blacked himself with burnt 

* The numbers refer to the appendix in which the real names are given. 



130 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 



cork, put on a ragged suit, and went to the show. 
Feeling that no one would see through his disguise, 

he mingled freely 
with all classes, and 
incited much amuse- 
ment and laughter 
by his "negro antics 
and lingo." Soon 
after that, Sam's 
father moved to 
Mississippi (in 1860), 
and the only time 
Nick and Sam ever 
saw each other 
again was during the 
last year of the Civil War (1865). Then they met 
and had a short talk on the road near Hamburg, 
South Carolina, Sam being in the cavalry and Nick 
in the infantry of the Confederate Army. Such are 
the strange coincidences of human life. 

Nick and Hines "^ were college chums and in the 
same class. Hines was brilliant in Latin and Greek, 
and Nick was good in mathematics. Hence it took 
the two together to make one first-class student. 
Nick was a hard student of mathematics, incited and 
stimulated by a love rather than a talent for the sub- 
ject. So he came to be dubbed the "college mathe- 




HOMER COLLEGE 131 

matician." The professor of mathematics once gave 
the class three days to solve a certain hard problem 
(the problem of "the three points" in trigonometry). 
He asked the class not to get any help or hints from 
the book or otherwise, and related such things about 
its use, history, and so forth, as to cause the boys to 
think it would be a great honor to the whole class if 
any one of them should solve it. 

All eyes and hopes now turned to Nick, and to en- 
courage him to do his best the boys promised him 
ever so many presents if he succeeded. "Nick," said 
Hines, "if you solve that problem I'll pay for your 
license when you get married." Well, to make a long 
story short, Nick solved the problem and received 
all the promised presents. Sixteen years after that 
he was married, and Hines, then a state senator; 
made good his promise also. 

A strong feature of the college was the work of the 
two literary societies, in which a great deal of interest 
was taken by all the upper classmen. Indeed these 
societies, with their numerous, intelligent, and 
wealthy members, dominated the college in a large 
measure. Such was the trend of the times that the 
highest goal at which a college man could aim was 
to be a good speaker or orator. The course of study 
not only helped to awaken and foster this ideal, but 
it also trained the students in the means of its attain- 

STOaiES OF DIXIE. — 9 



132 THE STORY OF A TYPICAL SECTION 

ment. Therefore the societies prospered, and some 
of the members became good speakers in after Hfe. 

In the month of May, 1861, the two societies met 
one Friday night for joint debate. Nick and Joe ^ 
were appointed a committee to select the question to 
be discussed.* The Civil War had now begun, and 
there was great excitement about it. One company, 
the "Claiborne Guards," had gone to the war, and 
there was talk of others going. So Nick and Joe 
agreed on this question: 

"Resolved that the upper-classmen should resign 
from the college and go to the war." 

The question was accepted and very ably debated 
on both sides. The affirmative won, and this served 
to arouse all the larger boys to action in the matter. 
There was little sleeping that night, but much earnest 
talking and planning. The next morning all the 
larger boys resigned from the college and went to their 
homes, expecting soon to go to the war. 

* Joe and Nick were classmates, and chums both at college and in 
the war. In the bloody onslaught at Franklin, Tennessee, Joe, though 
severely wounded, could not be persuaded to leave the field. Nick, per- 
ceiving his suffering, approached him and said, "Joe, can I help you in 
any way.^" 

"No, Nick," said he, "I thank you; but as soon as you can I wish you 
would look after Colonel Nelson; I fear he is mortally wounded." 

Such was ever his helpful and self-sacrificing disposition. Many 
years after the war the colonel of the regiment (the lamented T. C. 
Standifer), speaking of Joe to Nick said, "The South has no better 
citizen, nor had she a braver soldier." 



CHAPTER VI 
THE STORY OF THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 

The Irrepressible Conflict 

When it became known that Mr. Lincoln had been 
elected president of the United States (November, 
1860) there was great excitement all over the country. 
It is hard for one, at the present time, to realize how 
widely the North and the South had become sepa- 
rated in thought and feeling, especially with regard 
to certain leading questions and issues. It really 
seemed that an "irrepressible conflict" had arisen 
between them. So the Southern states, believing 
that the Union had become hurtful rather than help- 
ful to their peace and welfare, resolved to withdraw 
from it, just as a partner would leave a business con- 
cern w^hich had ceased to be pleasant and profitable 
to him. They seceded from the Union (annulled 
the compact which bound them to it), formed a 
government of their own, and called it the Confeder- 
ate States of America. 

Mr. Lincoln was an intense unionist; he believed 
and affirmed that the breaking up of the Union 

133 



134 THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 

would be the greatest evil that could befall all the 
states. So he determined to preserve the Union at 
all hazards, and to this end sent an army into the 
South to quell the "rebellion." 

How little the common people of the two sections 
really knew of one another — their thoughts, habits, 
characters, and ideals! This came from their living 
so far apart, and having no opportunity or means 
of mutual communication. Their knowledge of one 
another was based on hearsay, and this was dis- 
torted by partisans and fanatics. The South mis- 
judged and undervalued the North in many ways, 
and evidently Mr. Lincoln himself had a poor idea 
of southern conditions; for, to subdue the South, he 
called out 75,000 troops for three months, whereas 
as a matter of fact it took 2,750,000 soldiers four 
years to accomplish it. Had the common people 
North and South known each other better — their 
patriotism, devotion to the Union, and ideals of right 
and wrong — probably their differences would have 
been healed without the cost of so much blood and 
treasure. 

Nick Goes to War 

It was on a superb spring morning that Nick, with 
his gun and dog, was strolling through the dark 
green woods near his father's country home. What 



NICK GOES TO WAR 135 

lad would not have been happy under the same con- 
ditions! For him there had just been substituted 
outdoor freedom for indoor restraints, hunting for 
studying, the songs of birds and the murmur of 
running water for a stillness unrelieved except by 
the rattle of chalk or the clatter of slate pencils. 
No sound or sight of the landscape evaded the lad's 
quickened and responsive senses. A buttercup 
quivered and bowed under the flutter and weight 
of a bee extracting its honey; a "news-carrier" 
(syrphus fly), just arrived from fairyland, poised 
in mid air and cheered the boy with its fanciful 
message; a sapsucker flopped from a distant tree 
to one nearby and ran in dismal spirals about one 
of its big branches. All nature was "laughing in 
the madness of joy"; never seemed the sky so blue, 
the foliage so green, nor the odor of the honeysuckle 
so sweet. 

It is dreadful how quickly a delightful situation 
may be changed. Over the hills came the long swell- 
ing blasts of Uncle Wash's hunting horn. Nick 
knew at once that it was a call to him to come home. 
He struck a bee line for the house, feeling that it 
must be something about the war, for people now 
thought and talked of little else. At the front 
gate he met his cousin Billie,^ who lived in the western 
part of the parish. He was also a lusty lad, a little 



136 



THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 



older than Nick, and strong enough to handle a 
pike. Turning on Nick a cheerful, ruddy face, he 
said, 

"Nick, we are making up a company to go to the 
war, and I came all the way over here to get you to 
join it. It is nearly made up, and you will have to 
apply soon to get your name on the 
roll." 

Before replying Nick glanced at 
his mother. Though her lips were 
smiling, she looked at him out of 
deep, sad eyes with no glint of 
mirth in them. "My son," 
said she, "you have my con- 
sent to go, if you so desire." 
There was a look of anxiety 
in her clear gray eyes as 
she added, "This is going 
to be a more serious affair 
than our people appear to 
think; but go, and may God 
be with you." At the 



time Nick scarcely 
heeded the expression, 
but often since he has 
wondered if it was one 
of fear or a vision. 




:i;^ 



NICK GOES TO WAR 



137 




The next day (Sunday) Nick saw his friend Oat, 
and told him of his purpose to go with Bilhe to the 
war. "Nick," said 
Oat in his usual jest- 
ing tone and man- 
ner, "you and Bill 
will need a guardian, 
if not a nurse; so I 
reckon I'd better go 
along with you." 
That same day, late 
in the afternoon, Oat 
and Nick started on 
a twenty -five -mile 
ride, so anxious were they to get their names on 
the roll. Their route led through Homer. 

With their start also appeared the signs of an 
approaching tempest. Soon lowering clouds began 
to chase one another as if mad. The darkness of 
the night increased as the heavens became more 
overcast. After a while the fitful flashes of lightning 
alone revealed the surroundings of the riders, while 
loud peals of thunder shook the earth and reverber- 
ated over their heads. Just as they reached the col- 
lege large drops of rain began to fall. They stopped, 
hitched their mules, and with their saddles and 
blankets made pallets on the floor of the college 



188 THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 

hall. Lying on these rough beds and lulled by the 
roar of wind and rain, they fell asleep. What an 
experience — the ride, the storm, the bed! What a 
fitting introduction to the career of the Dixie soldier ! 
Was it an accident or a harbinger.^ God only knows. 

After a souhd two-hour nap they mounted their 
mules, continued their journey, and had the joy 
and honor of being enrolled as members of the 
"Claiborne Rangers," of which Thomas M. Scott 
was captain. 

The first day of July, 1861, was fixed as the time 
for the company to assemble in Homer and start 
to the war. These were now busy and exciting times. 
Every soldier was to have a uniform — a round- 
about coat with large horn buttons — and all the 
ladies joined in to help make them. The ladies met 
in groups at different places and there was a great 
deal of planning, measuring, sewing, and chattering. 
The young people lived in a fever of excitement. 
Uncle Wash made Nick a great bowie knife that was 
nearly a foot long. On the night before the day of 
departure, Nick was so wrought up in mind that he 
could scarcely go to sleep. He rose early the next 
morning, put on his uniform and also his belt, to 
which was attached a scabbard carrying his big 
knife. "Ah," thought he, "Mr. Yank had better 
keep out of my way." His little sister dashed into 



NICK GOES TO WAR 



139 




her mother's room and exclaimed, "Mama, Nick 
looks like the picture of Jack the Giant Killer." 

Homer was full of 
people on the first of 

July. They had d^!^^ H -/ / 

come m wagons, m 
buggies, and on 
horseback from all 
parts of the parish. 
Mothers were there 
to kiss their sons 
good-by, and pretty 
girls were there to 
bid their sweethearts 
farewell. Drums were beating, bands playing, and 
flags waving. The boys looked fine and grand in 
their new uniforms, though scarcely any two of the 
suits were exactly alike. With their pistols and 
bowie knives they had quite a warlike air, and a few 
must bluster some to show their manhood. "Good 
morning, Henry," said Miss Mary to a friend; "you 
are just splendid as a soldier;" and Henry would 
clear his throat and square his shoulders as a real 
soldier does when commended for valor. 

With a few exceptions all felt and acted as if 
they were going to a picnic. It was commonly be- 
lieved that the war would not last loni?. This belief 



140 THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 

was simply a part of the natural optimism of the 
people. Nick almost prayed that the war would 
not close before he got into one battle; but after he 
got into one he then prayed that it would close be- 
fore he got into another. 

It was sixty miles to the nearest railroad. This 
distance was to be traveled by the Claiborne Rangers 
in wagons or on foot. They knew nothing of drilling; 
this was the first time many of them had ever seen 
one another. But few had even heard of "fall in." 
So there was no attempt to form or march them in 
military order. When they started every fellow 
went as he pleased. 

When the order was given to march there was 
much cheering and shaking of hands, and good 
wishes were showered upon the departing soldiers. 
Oat said it was really a relief when they had gone so 
far that friends and relatives could no longer say 
to them "good-by" and *'God bless you." The poor 
fellows did not dream that many a long day was 
to pass before they again saw faces so beaming with 
looks of love and good will. With Aunt Martha's 
last embrace of Nick there came a far-away, dreamy 
look into her eyes. She was staring at him, but he 
felt himself almost outside the range of her vision. 
Nick never forgot that look, piercing as it were the 
realms of the future, and in after years wondered 



NICK GOES TO WAR 141 

if she then had a premonition of her own passing 
away before his return from the war. While her 
beautiful eyes bespoke fear, anxiety, and sorrow, 
there was no dimming of the indomitable light that 
lived in their clear depths. 

There were enough wagons and hacks to haul 
the entire party, their baskets of food, and their 
luggage. Some of the men rode and others walked, 
and when tired of the one they did the other. All 
along the road, people cheered them with their smiles, 
kind words, and good wishes, the men waving their 
hats and the women their handkerchiefs. 

Late in the afternoon they reached the Gee Place, 
and there they pitched camp for the night. Most of 
the men had been on camp hunts and camp fishings, 
and were more or less familiar with camp life. They 
knew what to do and how to do it to make themselves 
quite comfortable. There was a great stir and bustle 
in feeding and watering the stock, preparing and 
eating supper, and making pallets of blankets and 
comforts. After that the men became more quiet; 
they sat in groups on logs or pallets and told stories, 
cracked jokes, and sang familiar songs. As the night 
wore away they went by ones or twos "to bed," 
until none were left. On their rude couches they 
slept as soundly and as sweetly as if they had been 
in their soft beds at home. While they slumbered, 



142 THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 

the stars shone brightly in the skies as if keeping 
watch over them, and the stillness of the night was 
broken only by the whippoorwill as in the deep 
shadows of the forest, it poured forth its plaintive 
call, "chuck, will-widow." 

The men rose early the next morning, fed the 
stock, prepared and ate breakfast, and continued 
the march. The scenes and events along the road 
did not differ much from those of the day before. 
One mile west of Vienna they passed the old Wafer 
Place, the home of Nick's maternal great-grand- 
father. The second night they camped at the "Gum 
Spring," and the third night, in the courthouse 
yard of the beautiful city of Monroe. 

A new railroad ran from Monroe to Vicksburg, 
and this was the first one many of the Rangers had 
ever seen. Some platform cars were provided with 
seats made of rough planks, and on these the soldiers 
were transported from Monroe to Vicksburg. The 
terminal of the road at that time was DeSoto, a small 
village just across the river from Vicksburg. It 
has long since been destroyed by the changes in the 
channel of the great river. From DeSoto they were 
ferried across the river to Vicksburg. Here they 
stopped a few hours, during which time Nick went 
to an art gallery and had his "ambrotype" taken, a 
copy of which faces page 18. 



CAMP MOORE 143 

From Vicksburg the company went by rail to 
Jackson, Mississippi, and thence journeyed to Camp 
Moore, Louisiana. 



Camp Moore 

In the piny woods of Tangipahoa Parish there is a 
certain old field neglected and overgrown with pine 
bushes. Thousands have seen it from the passing 
trains of the Illinois Central without suspecting that 
it was the site of a great military encampment in the 
stormy days of '61. Here Camp Moore, named after 
the governor of Louisiana, was located. Hardly could 
a more appropriate place for the purpose have been 
found — seventy-five miles from New Orleans, suffi- 
ciently rolling for easy drainage, and level enough 
for military evolutions. Situated as it was in the 
ozone belt, the air was pure and sweet, and redolent 
with the odor of fresh pine straw. On one side was 
Beaver Creek and on the other the Tangipahoa 
River, both running streams of clear sparkling water. 

Here the sons of Louisiana went to enlist in the 
army and to be trained in the duties of soldiers. 
When the war began these sons knew nothing of 
drilling, guard mounting, and many other duties 
which alone make men efficient in the camp and on 
the march and the battle field. Camp Moore was 



144 



THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 




established by the state to provide this instruction. 
In a word, it was a real military school in which 

men were trained for 
war and formed into 
battalions and regi- 
ments. In this school 
they were kept usu- 
ally six or eight weeks 
and then forwarded to 
the "front," where 
the fighting was to be 
done. 

As green and awkward as the Claiborne boys were 
with respect to drilling, there were three things in 
military life they could do as well as the drill master: 
shoot quick and straight, put up tents, and march in 
"route-step" (go as you please). They marched in 
this go-as-you-please style from the depot to the 
camp, — a large drill-ground in front of " a little city of 
white tents." The grounds were as smooth as a floor 
and as clean as a newly swept yard, and the white 
tents were arranged in straight parallel rows. Every- 
thing seemed to have been designed and finished with 
a single eye to order and cleanliness. Here and 
there on the campus were squads of soldiers, each 
being drilled by an officer who was as straight as an 
Indian and as " bossy as a new overseer." " Shoulder 



CAMP IMOORE 145 

Forward, guide right, march!" "Com- 
pany, left half wheel, march!" The welkin rang 
with these and other commands, each having some- 
thing of the clear crack of a rifle. 

When the Rangers received their tents they at 
once put them up in two rows, facing one another, 
and Captain Scott said, "They look as well as any 
on the grounds." The next day officers were elected, 
and the company mustered into service for one year. 
Then they drew guns — all kinds, scarcely any dozen 
of them being of the same pattern. Thus equipped, 
they entered upon all the duties of soldiers; namely, 
drilling, guard mounting every morning, dress parade 
every afternoon, policing, inspections, cleaning quar- 
ters, washing clothes, drawing rations, cooking and 
eating the frugal meals. 

When a regiment was formed and sent to the 
"front" its place was soon filled by new companies 
coming in from all parts of the state. A few of these 
were Irish, more French, and still more English. 
Ten of the English companies from North-Central 
Louisiana, including the Claiborne Rangers, were 
formed into a regiment, known as the l^th Regi- 
ment, Louisiana Infantry. Of this regiment Captain 
Scott, of the Rangers, was elected Colonel. 

The 12th was formed of a thousand young men — 
stalwart, muscular, dauntless hobbledehoys. They 



146 THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 

were the sons of lawyers, doctors, business men, and 
farmers, and having been reared largely in Christian 
homes they had that pride and morale which make 
men towers of strength in peace and in war. Of 
course their military potency could not be estimated 
before training and trial, but there was the assurance 
in advance that "blood will tell"; for there flowed in 
their veins the blood of the heroes of Hastings and 
Marston Moor, Valley Forge and Yorktown, Horse 
Shoe Bend and New Orleans, Buena Vista and 
Chapultepec. 

It was a short walk from camp to the Tangipahoa 
River, and early in the morning and late in the after- 
noon the soldiers were permitted to go there to bathe 
and swim. This was much enjoyed by all, and every 
day the river was lined with the jolly and noisy swim- 
mers. Indeed, throughout the war, the range of 
their pleasures being so narrow, the men went in the 
creeks, mill ponds, and rivers whenever they had a 
chance, even in pretty cold weather, that being about 
their only pastime. They often took their soiled 
clothes, washed them, and spread them on the bushes 
to dry, while they bathed and played in the water. 

It was at Camp Moore that Nick learned to swim. 
That was queer, for, as a rule, Louisiana boys take 
to water almost as soon as they can walk. But after 
that, Nick made up for lost time by swimming in, if 



CAMP MOORE 



147 



not across, nearly every stream between that place 
and the Atlantic Ocean. 

When the men neglected duty or violated the rules 
they were punished in severe and singular ways. A 
soldier once stale something, and was punished for it 
by having to wear a board fastened to his back on 
which was printed ROGUE. Often a culprit was 
punished by having to wear a barrel, or being tied 
up by the thumbs, or put in stocks or a 
pillory. 

As a rule, it was only the rowdies who 
had to be treated in this way. The men 
generally did their duties cheerfully and 
faithfully. As the war progressed the 
roughs, rowdies, and bullies gradually 
"played out." It is men of moral courage 
that make dependable and enduring sol- 
diers. Hence punishments became 
fewer as the war went on. 

There was an Irishman in the 11th 
regiment named Kelly, who was 





STORIES OF DIXIE. — 10 



148 THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 

punished for drunkenness by being put under guard 
with a chain and ball attached to his ankle. Kelly 
had been a steamboat roustabout, and was a giant 
in size and strength. Nick happened to be on 
guard that day and had to guard Kelly. Now 
the big Irishman, moved by a spirit of humor or 
desperation, seemed to be watching for a chance to 
spring on Nick and beat the life out of him. So every 
time he moved down would come Nick's gun. It 
was loaded with an ounce ball and Kelly knew it. 
When the corporal of the guard came, Kelly said to 
him in a whisper: "Would ye be after putting a man 
in the place of that spalpeen of a lad.^ The little cuss 
has got so he won't let me turn over." 

Nick was as glad to go as Kelly was to have him go. 

Exposure and other causes produced much sickness 
among the troops. At the beginning of the war each 
camp was supplied with a hospital in which the sick 
were cared for. In it were clean beds, medicines, and 
nurses, and many ladies came with flowers and deli- 
cacies for the patients. But year by year, as the war 
went on, camp hospitals became poorer and the 
medicines scarcer, until they really disappeared al- 
together. At first the chief kind of sickness was 
measles, which is usually a harmless disease, but a 
very fatal one when the subject is exposed. More 
men died of it during the war than of all other dis- 



CAMP MOORE 



149 



eases together. It caused the death of more than a 
dozen of the Claiborne Rangers at Camp Moore. 

Many of the bodies of 
deceased soldiers were 
taken to their homes for 
burial, and the rest were 
interred on a mound in 
the woods nearby. The 
latter were buried with 
military honors; that is, 
the remains were es- 
corted to the graveyard 
by a squad of soldiers, 
and when the body was 
put in the ground the 
squad fired three rounds 
of blank cartridges over 
the grave. It was a 
very sad and impressive 
service. 

The site of Camp 
Moore is now^ an old and 
deserted field. All signs 
of the camp are gone. 
There is nothing left to 
remind one of the stirring scenes of '61. 




Instead of 



the merry laugh and heavy tramp of soldiers, one 



150 THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR 

now hears the "mournful song" of the pine straw 
as it is swept by the passing breeze. 

Many years after the w^ar the Daughters of the 
Confederacy induced the legislature to appropriate 
enough money to buy the old graveyard, clean it off, 
build a strong iron fence around it, and erect a monu- 
ment in memory of the men, living and dead, who 
served there. When the monument was unveiled 
(1907) Nick, then a professor in the state university, 
made the dedication speech. 

Two large beech trees were left standing in the in- 
closure on account of the many names of the soldiers 
cut into their bark. Among these old carvings Nick's 
attention was called to his own initials, "J. W. N.," 
which were probably cut by him just forty-six years 
before. 

In the latter part of August the 12th was ordered 
to "the front." With what a thrill of excitement was 
the order received by the men ! At last their hopes of 
getting into a battle were to be realized! Up to this 
time they had had no news to write home except 
the details of camp life. Now they were to go far 
away into Kentucky, where the storm of war would 
soon be raging. 

There was a great hurry and bustle in preparing to 
move — taking down tents, packing luggage, and 
cooking three days' rations. When they boarded 



CAMP MOORE 151 

the train each man carried a knapsack, a haversack, 
a canteen, two blankets, and a gun and cartridge 
box. It was a long freight train that was to carry 
them, and some took passage in and some on top of 
the box cars. When it "pulled out" a long and loud 
hurrah was shouted by a thousand jolly fellows. 
Poor boys ! They little dreamed of the hardships and 
privations in store for them. 

NOTE. It is not the intention of this book to give any ac- 
count of the battles and conOicts of the War between the States. 
As to how the Dixie boys acquitted themselves as soldiers is 
briefly told in the following tribute to them by General Early: 

"I believe the world has never produced a body of men su- 
perior, in courage, patriotism, and endurance, to the private 
soldiers of the Confederate armies. I have repeatedly seen those 
soldiers submit with cheerfulness to privations and hardships 
which would appear to be almost incredible; and the wild cheers 
of these brave men when their lines sent back the opposing host 
of Federal troops, staggering, reeling, and flying, have often 
thrilled every fibre in my heart. I have seen, with my own 
eyes, ragged, barefooted, and hungry Confederate soldiers 
perform deeds, which, if performed in days of yore, by mailed 
warriors in glittering armor, would have inspired the harp of 
the minstrel and the pen of the poet." 



CHAPTER VII 
THE STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 

Minor Incidents 

Many things occur in wars of which history makes 
no mention. As a rule, it tells of the greater and not 
of the smaller events. Yet the latter are the happen- 
ings that young people like most to hear about. 
Stories of little incidents of the camp, the march, and 
the battle not only make pleasant reading, but give 
one a good idea of the temper of the soldiers and the 
kind of men they were. 

The idea of war which one gets from history is that 
it is a series of severe ills and toils. This is true, and 
probably no soldiers ever realized it more keenly than 
the Confederates during the War between the States. 
Yet old soldiers say they had as many hearty laughs 
during that war as they ever had in any other four 
years of their lives. So war must have something 
of an amusing as well as a serious side. Fortunate is 
the soldier who has the "saving grace of humor" 
through and by which this funny side is discernible. 

Few armies have had a greater number of wits 

152 



MINOR INCIDENTS 153 

than the Confederate. However tired, hungry, and 
thirsty the men might be, however long the march, or 
hard the battle, or gloomy the outlook, some one 
would see the "funny side" of it, and so express it 
as to put the others to smiling if not laughing. No 
doubt this reviving and stimulating of the spirits and 
morale of the men went far to supply the want of food 
and medicine. Indeed, it is believed that this merri- 
ment had much to do in making the Dixie boys the 
splendid soldiers they were — enabling them to pro- 
long the struggle against such great odds and with 
such scanty means. 

A regiment was once passing through a small vil- 
lage. The men had been marching and fighting, 
more or less, for several days. They were not only 
tired, thirsty, and hungry, but their backs were chafed 
by the straps which supported their cartridge boxes, 
canteens, and haversacks. It was a hot summer day, 
and the only noise that broke the silence in ranks was 
the heavy grinding of the men's feet as they pulled 
their way through the deep dry sand. As they passed 
near a church where a negro was tolling the bell one 
of the men, in a husky voice, inquired, 

''Hello, boy; what are you ringing that bell for.^" 

"Somebody dead," said the negro. 

"Well," said the soldier, "strike her a few licks for 
me, for I'm nearly dead." 



154 



STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 



Weary and worn, with the prospect of a fight just 
ahead of them, some Confederate soldiers were pass- 
ing a cotton factory in North CaroHna. One of the 
men, glancing at the lofty stack chimney, exclaimed, 
"I wonder how they ever built that tall chimney?" 
"I can tell you," replied Jim ^^; "they first built 
the hole in it, and then built the chimney around the 
hole." 

After a hard day's march a regiment pitched camp 

near a small village. Soon 
a negro boy entered the 
camp with a note from the 
young ladies of the village 
inviting "the young men of 
the regiment" to a dance 
that evening. The 
boys at once got 



r jjji] 




MINOR INCIDENTS 155 

busy, washing off their old shoes, patching and 
brushing their coats and trousers, and pulHng the 
tangles out of their hair with currycombs. 

On going into the dance hall the boys found the 
girls assembled at one end of the room, and they soon 
gathered at the other end. And there they were with 
no one to introduce them. 

At last one of the fellows walked up to a pretty 
girl and, with a smile in his eyes, very gallantly 
asked, "Miss, may I have the first dance with 
you.?" 

Very gracefully she said, "Why, I don't know 
you." 

"Well," said he, "you don't take any more chances 
than I do." 

General Richard Taylor entered the Confederate 
Army as colonel of a regiment made up almost en- 
tirely of French boys from South Louisiana. Upon 
reaching Richmond he was ordered to report to Gen- 
eral Stonewall Jackson. Taylor found the redoubt- 
able Stonewall sitting on a fence and sucking a lemon. 
The regiment halted, stacked arms, and disbanded. 
Then the band struck up a lively tune, and the gay 
Creoles, although having just finished a long and 
hard march, paired off and began a jolly dance. 

"Very gay men for serious work," said Stonewall 
to Taylor. 



156 



STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 




"I hope they will be none the less good soldiers 
on account of their gayety," said the colonel. 

General Jackson 
shook his head as if 
he thought, "I 
don't see how that 
can be." 

Whereupon Col- 
onel Taylor is re- 
ported to have said, 
"General Jackson, 
French soldiers, just 
such as these, have 
whipped the men and kissed the women all over the 
world." 

One dark night Ben ^ stumbled up to a dim firelight 
around which a number of soldiers were standing, 
sitting, or lying. The darkness was intense, it being 
both a cloudy and a moonless night. 

''Boys," said Ben, *'I met the blackest negro awhile 
ago I ever saw." 

*'Bah, Ben," exclaimed one of the men; "how could 
you see a negro or anything else in such pitch- 
darkness as this.f^" 

"I saw him," said Ben, "by the very absence of his 
color; he was so black he looked like a hole in the 
darkness." 



A FISH STORY 157 

A Fish Story 

When one begins to tell a fish story the listener is 
apt to think, "Whatever you say will sound like a 
lie; so it doesn't really matter." In the present in- 
stance the facts are at least less exaggerated than in 
the old story where "they bit so fast one had to stand 
behind a tree to bait his hook." 

On May 15, 1863, the 12th was camped on the 
Big Black River just above the point where it is 
crossed by the railroad running from Vicksburg 
through Jackson, Mississippi. The immense army 
under Gen. Grant, having effected a landing at 
Grand Gulf, and forced its way through the interior 
to Jackson, w^as now faced toward the west, and 
slowly investing the Confederate forces under Gen. 
Pemberton. A great battle was drawing near in 
which the Dixie Army would either have to cut its 
way through the much larger army of Gen. Grant or 
be driven back into the intrenchments of Vicksburg. 

At this critical moment an event occurred which 
shows how little the Dixie boys were disposed to 
brood over coming troubles and impending disasters. 
About a mile from the camp of the 12th were a 
number of lagoons, and on the morning of the 15th 
it became known that these abounded in fish, large 
and small. How this discovery was made by the 



158 



STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 



men is not known. It is wonderful what news- 
gatherers they were, especially in reference to "grub." 
Soon the way to the lagoons was crowded with the 
would-be fishermen. Never had they gone to a picnic 
with more exhilarating zest, nor did they ever charge 
the "Yankees" with grimmer deter- 
mination. 

The lakelets were found to be about 

fifty feet wide and three feet deep. The 

question at once arose as to how the 

fish might be caught. The boys had no 

fishing tackle — lines, hooks, seines, or 

gigs. But here, as in many other cases, 

necessity was the mother of invention. 

Some one suggested how "seines" might 

be made of vines; viz., get a long vine 

and wrap it with other vines, thus 

forming a roll some fifty feet long, three 

feet thick in the middle, and tapering 

to points at the ends. 

There were plenty of 

vines in the swamp, 

plenty of men to do the 

work, and the only 

necessary tools were 

pocket knives. Soon 

the woods were ahve 



*-j:i^^=^^^^B' '' 




A FISH STORY 159 

with the hum of industry and a new manufactory in 
process of operation. 

The moment a seine was finished it was seized by 
a score of lusty fellows, who, stripped of their clothes, 
dragged it into the lagoon, and pushed or pulled it 
across, from side to side, just as an ordinary seine 
would have been used. With the seine pressed hard 
against the bottom of the lakelet, the openings be- 
tween the vines being too small to allow the passage 
of large fish through them, there were landed at each 
haul a number of buffalo and catfish, and along with 
these were often one or more turtles and moccasins. 
The boys entered into the sport with the zest of 
picnickers. They continued to seine "hole" after 
"hole," as long as there was a prospect for more fish 
and more fun. 

At last they started to camp, carrying many buf- 
falo fish weighing from one to three pounds. So 
covered were they with black sticky mud that the 
identity of each and all was destroyed except for his 
form and voice. Before reaching camps they went 
to the river to wash themselves and the fish. Scarcely 
had they done this " next-to-Godly " act when the 
"long roll" called them to "fall in." The regiment 
was soon on 'the march, many of the men having one 
or more buffaloes dangling from their haversacks. 

It was a hot day, and the fish became "heavier and 



160 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 

heavier"; so, one by one, they were dropped by the 
roadside, until the entire catch was strewn along the 
road for a distance of probably ten miles. That 
night, after a long and hard march, the regiment 
"slept on arms" in a cornfield. The next day, 
May 16, the battle of Baker's Creek, or Champion 
Hill, was fought, into which the fishermen entered as 
actively, though not as pleasantly, as in the fishing 
frolic of the day before. At the first roll call after 
the battle there were many vacant places in the 
ranks — some of the fishermen too had fallen. Brave, 
noble boys! May your ashes rest in peace, is the 
prayer of one of the few surviving seiners. 

A Confederate Scout 

Of the boys who attended the old Forest Grove 
school, already described, none could run faster and 
longer or jump further and higher than Wafe.'^ He 
was not much of a bookworm, but in athletics, 
hilarity, and mischief he led the school — always 
played deer in the "game of deer," and alwa^^s knew 
every boy's speech except his own. Good-natured, 
generous, and courageous, yet he was a genius in de- 
vising mischief and getting other boys into awkward, 
embarrassing, and scary situations. It is queer how 
he maintained his popularity with all classes — was 
hked even by the victims of his roughest jokes. As a 



A CONFEDERATE SCOUT 



161 



V— J^ 





'K%^ "^W 



rider and shot a Texas Ranger was not more daring 
or skillful. 

Wafe was the brother of Syranus, of w^hom a story 
is told later on, and he 
(Wafe) is the father 
of Chappell, a re- 
cent graduate of Tu- 
lane University, who 
was widely known in 
college circles as one 
of the greatest all- 
round athletes the 
South has produced. 
How queerly heredity 
works! In many particulars the brothers were as 
dissimilar as the father and son are alike. 

When the war broke out Wafe enlisted and served 
in the cavalry. Upon the fall of Vicksburg General 
Johnston, commanding the Confederate forces, fell 
back to Jackson, and was pursued by General Sher- 
man, commanding a corps of the Federal Army. 
After a severe encounter at Jackson, Johnston re- 
treated to Newton Station, and was again followed 
by Sherman. 

Now the Confederate leader, desiring to know 
whether or not his antagonist intended to pursue him 
farther across the country, determined to send a scout 



162 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 

around Sherman's army to ascertain, among other 
things, the size of his wagon train. To this end he in- 
structed the commander of the cavalry to send him 
an efficient trooper, — a cavaher of tried courage, 
sagacity, and rehability. Wafe was at once selected 
and ordered to report to General Johnston. 

Some of Wafe's close friends learned of the project, 
and in discussing the perilous adventure Joe ^ said, 

"Well, if Wafe is provided with a good horse he'll 
come out all right." 

Billie, who had chased Wafe in many a "game of 
deer," thus replied, "In any case of emergency, 
whether he has a horse or not, if he can only get a 
fair start I defy the whole Yankee army to catch 
him." 

Without going into details, suffice it to say Wafe 
made the circuit, and discharged the service with 
consummate tact and daring. Venturing into critical 
positions in order to get full and accurate informa- 
tion, he had several hairbreadth escapes. 

Returning, he made his report to General Johnston, 
who correctly divined from it that Sherman would 
push the invasion no further, and so notified the 
president of the Confederacy. Taking Wafe by the 
hand he said: "I congratulate you on the success of 
your mission, and thank you for your valuable serv- 
ices." 



STORIES OF OAT 163 

Wafe is still living, hale and healthy. While he is 
not so great a tease as in the olden times, yet Nick 
would not now "go in swimming" with him without 
some assurance that Wafe would not "duck" him. 

Stories of Oat 

This is not the first time the reader has heard of 
Oat, one of Nick's close and lifelong friends. Once 
when the 12th was camped near Grenada, Missis- 
sippi, the colonel sent for Nick and Oat and said, 

"Nick, I wish you and Oat to go to Jackson to ob- 
tain some clothing and blankets for the regiment. 
You can leave on the train this afternoon, which will 
put you in Jackson about eleven to-night." 

In handing them their permits and orders for the 
supplies he added, "Now, you men will have to be 
very careful in Jackson as to where you go, for the 
smallpox is said to be raging in all parts of the city." 

When Oat and Nick reached Jackson it was very 
dark, cold, and rainy. There were no hotels or board- 
ing houses to go to, so they at once set out to find 
some kind of shelter that would at least protect them 
from the rain. After strolling around in the darkness 
for some time they came upon an old rickety box car 
standing on a sidetrack. 

"This will do," said Oat. 

STORIES OP DIXIE. — 11 



164 



STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 



They grasped the heavy shutter of the door and 
were sHding it back, when some one within shouted, 
"Who's that?" 

"Two soldiers looking for shelter," replied Oat. 

"You had better stay out of here," said the voice 
within; "there are two cases of smallpox in here." 




"That's all right," said Oat; "we've got the small- 
pox too." 

"The devil you say ! Well — you fellows stand aside 
till we get out." 

So Oat and Nick stood aside; the fellows within 
crawled out and scampered off to parts unknown. 

As they stretched out on their hard and lonely 
couch Oat said, "Nick, the greatest thing in this 
world is bluff; it has more to do with a man's success, 
in peace and in war, than any other one thing." 

As a rule, the Dixie soldiers w^ere always hungry — 
at least hungry for some "good old home-cooked 
food." Citizens living near a camp of soldiers, being 
so often called upon by the troops for one favor or 



STORIES OF OAT 165 

another, especially food, were so stripped of every- 
thing that they had less and less to give, and less and 
less disposition to do so. One day Oat and Nick 
walked far into the interior, hoping to secure a good 
meal at some remote place that had not been an- 
noyed and "eaten out" by the soldiers. 

Stopping in front of a house, Nick said, "Now, Oat, 
you do the talking." 

In response to Oat's loud "Hello" a lady came out 
on the front gallery, and the "gallant soldiers" 
bowed very low to her, wishing her to know how much 
better their manners were than their garments. 

"Madam," said Oat, "we are so hungry we feel 
as if we were hollow from our mouths to our feet. 
Can't you let us have something to eat.^" 

"My friends," said the lady, "there is nothing 
cooked on this place, and there is very little to cook. 
We women have a hard time trying to make a living 
with our sons and husbands in the war. Truly, if I 
had it I would divide the last morsel with you." 

"Madam," said Oat, "we beheve you, and wish we 
had the means of helping you. Please pardon us for 
this intrusion. Good-by." 

The two soldiers raised their hats, and were walking 
quietly away, when the lady said, "My friends, I 
have a large quantity of fine peaches which I have 
just picked for drying purposes. If you like good 



166 



STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 



peaches, and will come in, you may have all you 
wish." 

In a moment Oat and Nick were in the house. 

They found one of 
the rooms to be full 
of large cotton bas- 
kets, and each of 
these was filled with 
choice peaches. Fol- 
lowing a suggestion 
of the lady it did not 
take the boys long to 
slide a basket out 
into the hall, take 
their seats by it, and begin to eat. Truly, as Oat 
said subsequently, they "laid up for the future as a 
camel does for the desert journey; peaches passed 
from sight under their manipulations as eggs do in 
a sleight of hand performance." 

"Now, gentlemen," said the lady, "some of those 
peaches are very fine; look over them and select the 
best." 

Then Oat, laying down his knife, looking and speak- 
ing very earnestly, and as if to relieve her of all 
anxiety in the matter, said, "My dear madam, it 
don't really make any difference 'cause we are going 
to eat 'em all anyhow." 




STORIES AND HARDSHIPS 167 

General John B. Gordon told a good story of a 
soldier in his old regiment whose leg was so shattered 
by the fragment of a bomb that it had to be ampu- 
tated. He was discharged from the army and went 
home. But as soon as he was able to walk with the 
aid of crutches he returned to the army and reen- 
listed, determined to help the cause in any way he 
could. One night, shortly after his return, he at- 
tended a prayer meeting. The chaplain led the serv- 
ices, and in his prayer he implored, "O Lord, give 
our men more zeal, more courage, more fortitude, 
and " 

Just here he was interrupted by the one-legged 
soldier, who said, 

"Ah, parson, youVe got that all wrong; we have 
a plenty of all that; what we want you to pray for is 
more ammunition and provisions; let Him give us 
these and we'll attend to all the rest." 

Not many soldiers in ancient or modern times ever 
did more hard service, and on such meager supplies, 
than the Confederates. Throughout many a long 
campaign they had not a change of clothes. The 
, same coats, trousers, and shoes were w^orn summer 
and winter, and one can well imagine how thin 
and ragged they became. During the last two 
years of the war there were no tents, and the only 
means the men had of protecting themselves from 



168 



STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 




rain and cold was the few blankets they could 
pack. 

The main cooking vessels were frying pans and 

light camp kettles, 
and these the men 
often carried by hand 
or suspended to their 
belts. The usual 
food was corn bread, 
made of unsifted 
meal, about a half ra- 
tion of poor beef, 
and red pepper, of 
" '""^^ which latter there 

was always plenty. When the pones of bread be- 
came hard and dry, as they did when two or three 
days old, they were soaked in water, cooked into 
mush, and seasoned with red pepper. This choice (.^) 
dish was called "cush." The men were usually so 
hungry that to them cush was real good food. Nick 
often thought, "If I ever get home I am going to 
have Aunt Kitty to cook me as much cush as I want." 
During the Tennessee campaign under General 
Hood the army suffered very much from toil, cold, 
and hunger. Once, while on the retreat, Nick was 
trudging along with the remnant of the 12th, and 
wondering if he could find some waste grains of corn 



AN INTERRUPTED ORATION 169 

where horses had been fed. Jim coming in from the 
rear, put his hand on Nick's shoulder and asked him 
in a whisper, "Nick, do you Hke chicken pie?" 

Nick was at once interested, thinking or hoping 
that maybe Jim ^^ had somewhere and somehow ob- 
tained some of that good old Georgia dish. With an 
intense anxiety he asked also in a whisper, 
"Jim, tell me truly, why do you ask that.^" 
"Well," quietly replied Jim, "I didn't think you 
did, for I never see you eating any." 

An Interrupted Oration 

Some men are cut out for one thing and some for 
another. A great lawyer might have made a poor 
mechanic and a good farmer an indifferent surgeon. 
That a man is unequal to a certain duty or office is 
often no reflection on his gifts; probably he is far 
superior intellectually to him who is so fitted. One 
can hardly think of a greater misfit than Charles J. 
Fox or Lord Byron as a commander and trainer of a 
military company. Every old soldier of any war 
knows that leadership in social and civil life is no 
assurance of leadership in military life; and vice 
versa. 

In the Southern army were many brilliant young 
men who had been reared in wealthy and cultured 



170 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 

homes, and educated in the best schools of the coun- 
try — high hvers and good fellows every inch of them, 
thoroughly at home in the parlor, on the rostrum, 
and in the salons of fashionable circles, and every- 
where racy, charming, and without vanity. Yet 
many of them never attained to mihtary rank or dis- 
tinction, partly because they were not fitted by habits 
or temperament for oflSce, but mostly because they 
cared but little, if at all, for it. They regarded oflSce, 
in its lower aspects, somewhat as they did that of 
overseer on their father's plantation. To be first 
among equals they considered w^orth while, but power 
and command over the masses was to them "the 
tawdry eminence that bosses crave and shallow snob- 
bish people admire." To them the petty detail of the 
service was drudgery and its pomp and show mum- 
mery. The battle, especially a dashing and hazardous 
charge, was the one thing which broke the monotony 
and into which they entered with gusto, if not with 
thrilling delight. 

One of these cultured, rollicking fellows was 
Syranus ^^ — handsome, graceful, and full of laughter, 
song and story. He had at least one weakness — a 
weakness then common to all of his kind: he some- 
times drank too much "booze" and became tipsy. 
When in this "happy state" his first and main 
thought was to make a speech. 



AN INTERRUPTED ORATION 171 

During the "hundred-days fight" from Dalton to 
Atlanta Syranus was on detail in the commissary 
department, and for the time took no part in the 
fighting except when he slipped away to participate 
in a battle. This he did now and then, being a good 
mixture of the fighter and the dreamer. One day he 
got some "Louisiana rum," became tipsy, and made 
his way to the front where the men were stationed 
behind a high breastwork. It was near Marietta, 
Georgia. 

"Boys," said he, addressing mainly his old friends, 
"I came out here — hie — to make a speech — hie — to 
those Yankees over there in front of the works — 
hie — and my purpose is to bring this crazy war to a 
close — hie — *' 

His friends, thinking it all swagger, paid but little 
attention to him and less to his silly proposition. 
Almost unnoticed by them he mounted the breast- 
work and in a clear, ringing voice began: 

"Gentlemen of the United States, — hie — I re- 
spectfully ask your earnest attention for a few 
moments. — hie — My purpose is to pave the way to 
the closing of this cruel war. — hie — I would assure 
you on the honor of a gentleman — hie — that it is 
quite a difl'erent thing to live in Boston and gossip 
of raids into the South and to live in the South and 
experience them. — hie — " 



172 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 

Two of his cousins, Joe ^ and Billie,^ knowing the 
great danger he was in, seized him by the legs and 

were about to pull 

U^^^^ ^ him off the works, 
-_?A?^-^ when he turned his 

_ ..^^j^^^~^^-i.^^s|^ and said, "Now, 

^^<""" %^^'^^ boys, I insist that 

^^'^^^ /tl% \E you permit me to 

'^ ^^^S ^^^&^S^?^ ^^«M so on; I know what 

-^^f^^,^__,. \^^^ -' I'm doing — hie— , 

" ^^ ^ ' and—" 

"Bang," went a gun out in front, and "whack," 
the ball hit Syranus in the back. 

It then took no more coaxing or pulling to get him 
off the works; the speech and also the drunk were 
brought to a sudden close. 

Fortunately Syranus was wearing a belt, and still 
more fortunately the ball struck it and, hitting it a 
glancing blow, inflicted only a severe bruise. The 
next morning Joe ^ and Nick, both cousins of Syranus, 
called to see him. 

"Syranus," said Joe, "what could have possessed 
you to do a thing so silly and foolhardy.^" 

"Joe," replied Syranus, "drink not only blunts 
my sense of fear but inclines me to give expres- 
sion to my most serious thoughts. Lately I have 




AN INTERRUPTED ORATION 173 

been brooding over the silliness, incongruities, and 
injustice of this war, and I suppose it was of that 
that I desired to speak." 

*'Tell us," said Nick, "just what you mean by all 
that." 

"Well, briefly, it is this: at least half of the men in 
the Southern Army, although fighting in a way for 
secession, do not believe in it. Indeed, they made 
the political fight of their lives to defeat it. 

"Again, as you are aware, a large proportion of the 
slave owners of the South, including all our kith and 
kin and such representative men as Judge McGehee,* 
are in favor of freeing the negroes, provided it be 
done by the plan of 'gradual emancipation.' By 
that method the negroes could be prepared for 
freedom, and in the meantime the South could work 
out of the labor system in and by which all her 
agricultural, commercial, and educational wa3^s and 
means have been molded and operated for genera- 
tions. 

" Furthermore, that humane and rational method 
of freeing the negroes would conserve the kind 
and sympathetic relation which, in general, has 
always existed between the two races in the South. 
In any event, the singular situation is that we 
are fighting to break up the union and perpetuate 

* Judge McGehee probably had more slaves than any man in the South. 



174 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 

slavery, when we are in a way opposed to both 
these projects." 

"If the partisans and fanatics," continued he, 
"could have been set aside and the common people. 
North and South, could have been brought into a 
free and full conference over the questions at issue, I 
believe the Union could have been preserved and 
that the negroes could have been freed without any 
war. But this, I suppose, was impracticable and 
therefore impossible. One thing, however, is very 
clear to my mind and that is, the Federal Gov- 
ernment should at least have tried to follow the ex- 
ample set by Great Britain in freeing her slaves — 
buy them and set them free." 

"It seems to me," continued he, "that such a 
course was recommended by every consideration 
of justice, equity, and law. Evidently the North 
and the South were alike responsible for the 'in- 
stitution of slavery' in this country; the 'system' 
grew up under the fostering care of the Constitu- 
tion itself; if it is a crime it is one that the South 
has incontrovertibly inherited from the founders of 
the republic; if the world has awakened to a sense 
of its inhumanity and immorality the Government 
should not have lost sight of its obligations in the 
matter, but should have sought to eliminate the evil 
by correct and honorable business methods." 



AN INTERRUPTED ORATION 175 

"Syranus," said Joe, ''suppose Mr. Lincoln, im- 
mediately after his election or before the Southern 
States began to secede, had announced that as 
his policy, that is, to have the Government pay 
the South a fair sum for the slaves and then set 
them free, do you think the South would have ac- 
cepted the offer?" 

"I do not," said Syranus; "the Southern States 
were then and are now contending for a principle 
rather than an institution — the right to control 
their own affairs in accordance with and under the 
guarantees of the Constitution. But I do believe 
that Mr. Lincoln would thereby have made a fa- 
vorable impression on the Southern people, and 
probably have prevented the secession of the South- 
ern States. There was already intense opposition 
to secession throughout the South; most of the 
Southern States seceded by only small majorities, 
and I doubt not that Mr. Lincoln could have de- 
feated it, at least in some instances, by the mani- 
festation of such an unmistakable evidence of fair- 
ness to the South. 

"I may be unduly prejudiced in the matter, but 
it is hard for me to reconcile his failure to do so 
with his undoubted good judgment, independence of 
thought and action, sense of fair play, and great good 
nature." 



176 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 



The Confederate Army Starts for Tennessee 

At the close of the "hundred-days fight" the Fed- 
eral Army, under General Sherman, had possession 
of Atlanta, while the Confederate Army, now under 
General Hood, toil-worn and battle-scarred, was lying 
near Jonesborough, just south of Atlanta. On 
September 18, 1864, General Hood's army left that 
place, and started on the long march into Tennessee. 
Soon after that General Sherman's army started on 
what is called *'The march to the sea." Thus the 
two armies moved off in nearly opposite directions. 
By that time the South had put in service all its 
available men; indeed, as General Grant said, it had 
*' robbed the cradle and the grave" to strengthen 
its armies. So General Sherman in his march to the 
sea had little more to dispute his way than defense- 
less old men, women and children. 

The route of the Confederate Army led across 
northern Georgia, thence across northern Alabama, 
and thence into Tennessee, crossing the Tennessee 
River on a pontoon bridge near Florence. The army 
passed through the battle ground of New Hope 
Church and the sites of other battles of the "hundred- 
days fight." These scenes of conflict were now sad 
sights. When the battles were fought, mostly in 



THE ARMY STARTS FOR TENNESSEE 177 



June and July, the trees were covered with green 
leaves; but nearly all the trees, large and small, 
were killed by musket and cannon balls in the 
fierce combats; so that the once lovely forests now 
looked like old deadenings; they were still covered 
with foliage, but it was brown and crisp. Not a 
cow, hog, chicken, or even a 
bird could be seen. Scattering 
stalks of green corn, oats and 
barley were growing in the 
woods from seeds dropped by 
the armies in feeding the stock. 
These green plants, so attract- 
ive under normal conditions, 
were here silent mementos of 
the ravages of war. 

One beautiful afternoon the 
army pitched camp near the 
Etowah River. The water was 
clear, and sang with a sweet 
murmur as it flowed between ^ 
its clean and pebble-lined 
banks. Several of the men 
went to the river with 
their canteens to get a 
supply of water for the --'^'"'^^■^k- 
night. Nick was in the 




178 



STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 




party, and as he neared 
the stream he saw 
something floating in 
the water which he 
thought might be valu- 
able. It had lodged 
against a large rock in 
the middle of the river. 
Quietly but quickly his coat and shoes were "shucked 
off," and before the others knew what he was up 
to, he plunged into the chilly water and swam 
to the rock. Climbing up on it and walking to 
its upper end, he stooped and lifted from the 
water a first-class hickory shirt. What a glorious 
find! In an ecstasy of joy he waved it above his 
head, and there is no telling how much he was 
envied by the men who were watching him from the 
shore. Nick wore that shirt into Tennessee, and 
afterwards into North Carolina. 



A STUDENT-SOLDIER 179 

Nick, on returning to his comrades, said, "Boys, 
when I was on that rock I looked across the river 
and saw many pumpkins in the field on the other 
side." 

That was another glorious find in which all the 
men were at once interested. It was soon known 
throughout camp, and nearly every man in the 
12th made a rush for the river. They swam across, 
and each of them, I suppose, got one or more pump- 
kins. Their recrossing of the river with the pumpkins 
was the prettiest sight Nick saw during the war. 
As they swam they pushed the pumpkins ahead of 
them or held them by their stems with their teeth, 
and all were as gay and sportive as if they had been 
on a picnic. That evening the camp kettle was 
brought into use, and the Dixie boys had a great 
feast in which the only dishes were " cush " and 
boiled pumpkin, and these were seasoned only with 
salt and red pepper. 

A Student-soldier 

If this story has a moral it is that a lad who has 
the will can learn much without a teacher, and that 
too under the most adverse circumstances. However, 
one may not be entitled to much credit for persever- 
ance e.tpended in pursuit of a subject that he really 

STORIES OF DIXIE, — 12 



180 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 

likes. When Nick left college for the war his class 
was just finishing the sophomore year, and therefore 
had not reached the higher mathematics — analytics 
and calculus. In the subjects passed over, arith- 
metic, algebra, geometry, and trigonometry, Nick 
was quite thorough, owing to a liking rather than a 
talent for mathematics, though wise men tell us 
that the former is some evidence of the latter. 

In addition to Nick's fondness for the subject 
he had a consuming desire to see what lay be^^ond the 
boundaries of his attainments. The attempt to 
satisfy this desire occupied his mind, if not his time, 
during the war more than all the affairs of camp 
and field. When not actively engaged on duty he 
found delight in poring over some problem or theorem 
of real or imaginative entities. Speaking of him 
Joe^ said, "He swims around most of the time in a 
sea of formulas." 

Nick formed such a liking for tactics that he ob- 
tained a copy of Hardee's textbook on the subject, 
which was then in use, and made a study of it. The 
result was that he was often detailed to drill squads 
and companies. Having been elected second ser- 
geant of his company, and finding that the duties 
were such as to allow him more or less time for 
study, he retained that office throughout the 
war. 



A STUDENT-SOLDIER 181 

At some old secondhand bookstore Nick obtained 
a copy each of Davies's Analytic Geometry and 
Differential and Integral Calculus, packed them 
from place to place, and entered into their wonderful 
unfoldings with no less of diligence than delight. 
Such was his progress in these and other subjects 
that at the close of the war Homer College tendered 
him the chair of mathematics, and conferred on him 
the degree of Master of Arts. Subsequently he 
prepared textbooks on calculus and trigonometry 
which were adopted, respectively, by Yale and 
Harvard. 

Of course it would be out of place in a sketch like 
this to notice in detail Nick's achievements in va- 
rious kinds of mathematical work and research. 
The point is not that he did so much but that he 
accomplished what he did without a teacher and 
almost without the aid of books. Among the inter- 
esting formulas which he deduced is the following 
singular value of the ratio of the circumference of 
a circle to the diameter: 

-77 = 2(1-1)^(1-1)"-^. 

Many years after the war the proof of this formula 
was given in a mathematical magazine published 
at DesMoines, Iowa, edited by Dr. J. E. Hendricks. 

Nick's "musical circle" will probably be of interest 
to a much wider circle of readers. Some of the young 



182 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 

men of the regiment organized a brass band and 
Nick joined it largely for the purpose of studying the 







science of music. He believed, and still believes, 

that the laws of music can be "harnessed in and by 
mathematical formulas" pretty 
much as the laws of projectiles 
and electricity are. In this un- 
dertaking he was led to the dis- 
covery, among other things, of 
the following simple mnemonic 
device for remembering the order 
of the sharps, flats, and keys. 

This little artifice is now published for the first time, 

fifty years after its discovery. 




B F 

Nick's Musical Circle 



A PERILOUS ADVENTURE 183 

Draw a circle, and divide the circumference into 
seven equal parts. Begin at any point of division 
and write A, and at the alternate points write in 
order, B, C, D, E, F, G. This arrangement gives at 
once : 

(1) The order of the sharps, F, C, G, D, A, E, B. 

(2) The keys by sharps, G, /), A, E, B, F, C. 

(3) The order of the flats, B, E, A, D, G, C, F. 

(4) The keys by flats, F, B, E, A, D, G, C. 

A Perilous Adventure 

A long time ago, in a humble home in the great 
city of New York, was born a boy named Robert. ^^ 
Henry Ward Beecher said, "There is no telling what 
is wrapped up in a boy's jacket." This might well 
have been applied to Robert, though he, like many 
other heroic souls, has never attained great wealth 
or high station in civil life. 

When quite a young man he came to the South, 
and, like many other good and brave men of the 
North, became one of the Dixie people. When the 
Civil War broke out he was among the first to enlist 
in the Confederate Army. He began as a private 
but soon became a captain. He was in the siege at 
Port Hudson ; that is, he was with the Dixie soldiers 
who were hemmed in there by the Federal soldiers, 



184 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 

so that they (the Dixie boys) could get no more food 
from, and have no conference with, their friends on 
the outside. 

Now Robert told the Dixie leader. General Gard- 
ner, that he would carry a message from him to Gen- 
eral Johnston, the Dixie leader on the outside, al- 
though several men had already tried to do so, and 
had been killed or captured on the way. The general 
wrote the message, gave it to Robert, and said, 
"Good-by. God bless you." 

The Mississippi River flows by Port Hudson, and 
is 1200 yards wide there. Robert knew the country 
well, as it was not far from his home. His plan was to 
swim the river and land at a point about fifteen miles 
below, because the bank opposite Port Hudson was 
guarded by Federal sentinels. One night about nine 
o'clock, with five canteens buckled around his waist, 
he waded into the water and began his long swim. 

The swim was not only a long but a perilous one. 
The river was lined with Federal gunboats and its 
banks with Federal pickets; the route led through 
many eddies and cross-currents of the great river; 
the long stay in the water was likely to produce 
cramps; and the peril was increased by his having 
to swim in his clothes. He reached his landing 
place about four o'clock the next morning, his 
swim having lasted about seven hours. He delivered 



A PERILOUS ADVENTURE 



185 



the message to General Johnston at Jackson, Mis- 
sissippi, and then took a message from General 
Johnston back to General Gardner. 

In returning, Robert crossed the river in a horse 
trough a few miles above Port Hudson, and went 
down the western bank to a point 
just opposite Port Hudson. There 
he waited in the bushes until the 
sentinels were posted on the levee. 
He thus learned their posi- 
tions. And so, after dark, he 
passed unseen between two 
of them, and, reaching the 
river, swam 
across into 
Port Hudson. 
Both the of- 
ficers, John- 
son and Gard- 
ner, spoke in 
high praise 



of his con- 
duct.* 




*0n the Boulevard at Baton Rouge is a Confederate monument. 
Here the local ex-Confederates often assemble to tell anew the stories 
of the past. Prominent in this assembly is Robert, respected and es- 
teemed in his old age by all who know him. 



186 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 



General Sherman and Colonel Boyd 

The Louisiana State University, now domiciled 
at Baton Rouge, had its origin in the Louisiana State 
Seminary and Mihtary Academy, which was located 
in the piny woods near Alexandria, Louisiana. This 
embryo of the university began its career January 2, 
1860, with William Tecumseh Sherman as Superin- 
tendent, and David French Boyd as Professor of An- 
cient Languages. Colonel Sherman was an Ohioan 
and a graduate of West Point; and Professor Boyd 
was a native of Virginia, and a graduate of her great 
university. Between these two men, who had so 
many like qualities of heart and mind, there sprang 
up at once a mutual admiration, which ripened into 
a friendship that strengthened with the lapse of 
years. 

Pending the growing estrangement between the 
North and the South, which culminated in the seces- 
sion of the Southern states in 1861, Colonel Sher- 
man frankly and firmly sided with the North, and 
when Louisiana seceded he at once resigned the 
superintendency of the Seminary, went North, ten- 
dered his services to President Lincoln, and became 
one of the greatest generals of the Civil War. 

Professor Boyd espoused the cause of the South, 



SHERMAN AND BOYD 187 

and was among the first to enlist in her mihtary 
service. During the first two years of the war he 
served gallantly in the Army of Virginia. He was 
then transferred to the Trans-Mississippi Depart- 
ment and assigned to the corps of engineers under 
General Taylor, with the rank of major. 

In the dense woods near Alexandria, while running 
some contour lines, Major Boj^d was seized by a band 
of jayhawkers.* As they hurried him along to their 
secluded retreat they debated as to what disposition 
they would make of him. The majority favored 
"putting him out of the way," but some advocated 
turning him over to the "Yankees" in exchange for 
coffee and sugar. Before deciding the matter they 
reached Black River, and while crossing the stream 
their skiff capsized, and one of the guerrillas would 
have been drowned had it not been for the help of 
Major Boyd. This kind act of the prisoner caused 
the captors to decide upon carrying him to the 
Federals at Vidalia, Louisiana. 

Then followed a long and toilsome tramp across 
the swamp of the great river. The jayhawkers, 
fearing encounters with citizens and Confederate 
scouts, traveled mostly in the deep woods or along 
bypaths which led through solitudes unrelieved by 
the faintest trace of man. Major Boyd had a fine 

* Guerrillas. 



188 



STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 




and irrepressible sense of humor, and never was it a 
greater support to him than on this trying occasion. 

He was, as it 
were, the one 
cheerful spirit 
in a mourning 
household. Ar- 
riving finally at 
Vidalia he was 
turned over to 
the Federals, the 
""^'^"''" inference being 

that he was bartered for coffee and sugar. His 
quarters were established in the local jail pending 
his transference to some northern prison. 

In the meantime General Sherman, now high in 
rank and in the councils of his country, came along 
on a tour of inspection, and hearing of the fate of the 
major had him escorted to his office. When they met 
smiles broke suddenly like beams of light on their 
faces. Each realized, as probably never before, 
that there are ties which even war can not sever. 

At that time Confederate prisoners were exchange- 
able or not according to certain local conditions, 
not necessary to explain here. General Sherman, in 
order to get the major on the exchangeable list, 
determined to take him to New Orleans and turn him 



SHERMAN AND BOYD 189 

over to General Banks. So he had the major to 
take passage with him on his boat, and on the trip 
down the river treated him as his honored guest, 
providing him with a stateroom and having him to 
dine at the same table with himself. After a short 
confinement in prison at New Orleans the major 
was exchanged and at once returned to his duties 
under General Taylor. 

•Soon after the war Major Boyd was elected super- 
intendent of the Seminary, which position carried 
with it the rank of colonel in the state militia. The 
rest of this story, though important as to the facts 
related, will probably be most interesting to the 
general reader by its disclosure of General Sherman's 
continued regard for the institution and its new 
president. 

In 1869 the buildings of the Seminary were de- 
stroyed by fire, and the institution was removed to 
Baton Rouge, and temporarily housed in a part of 
the large edifice erected by the state for the care and 
education of its deaf and dumb. In 1874 Colonel 
Boyd, on the recommendation of General Sherman, 
was appointed superintendent of the Khedivial Mili- 
tary Academy, Cairo, Egypt. This position the 
colonel declined chiefly on account of his aversion 
to severing his connection with the school intrusted 
to his care, although at that time the institution was 



190 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 

literally perishing for want of the support of the 
"carpetbag" state government, and also of the im- 
poverished people struggling under its untold evils 
and abuses. 

General Sherman became commander of the army 
in 18G9, which position he resigned in 1884. In 
1879, while passing through the South looking after 
military conditions, he stopped over at Baton Rouge, 
and for the time was the guest of the institution inio 
which the Seminary expanded on the decline of the 
carpetbaggers: namely, the Louisiana State Uni- 
versity. A banquet was tendered him by the school 
in which, using the language of the general, many 
"gallant men who wore the gray" cheerfully partici- 
pated. 

Lying along the north boundary of the city of 
Baton Rouge is a stretch of land containing 210 
acres, with a high blufi'-front of 600 yards overlook- 
ing the Mississippi River. This beautiful and 
valuable tract is now the home and property of 
the university, and no more appropriate site for a 
great school is imaginable. When one surveys it, 
one is equally attracted by its beauty, its health- 
fulness, its value, and its interesting and romantic 
history. It is ideal for pleasure and meditation. 
The imagination is touched and kindled by the 
thousand stirring associations which hover over it. 



SHERMAN AND BOYD 191 

Here played the mighty forces which molded the 
civilization of the Southwest, and here Louisiana 
laid the foundation of her future greatness and power. 
A typical Louisiana spot — carpeted with a living 
green and lulled by the ceaseless murmur of the 
Father of Waters — fields of corn and rice, cotton and 
sugar cane stretch out around it, gulf breezes sweep 
over it, and the dark shadows of the live oak and 
magnolia fall across it. How^ the university came by 
this splendid property is as naturally asked as it is 
briefly answered. 

Attracted by its elevation and commanding posi- 
tion, Bienville established a military post here 
soon after the founding of New Orleans (1718). 
Under the successive dominations of the French, 
Spaniards, and Americans the post was continued, 
improved, and expanded into a strong garrison with 
massive buildings for supplies, officers, and men. 
At one time or another nearly all the noted soldiers 
of the nation were stationed here. It was the home 
of General Taylor when he was elected President 
of the United States. Beneath the splendid oaks 
listening crowds of citizens and soldiers have hung 
with rapture on the lips of the nation's great states- 
men and orators. 

In the course of time the conditions which made 
it advisable to found and maintain a military post 



>^c- 



192 STORY OF EVENTS OF THE WAR 

at Baton Rouge ceased to exist, and in 1878 the 
Government discontinued the garrison. General 
Sherman, ever thoughtful of the school away down in 
Dixie which he helped so much to establish, recom- 
mended that the property be turned over to that in- 
stitution. This proposition was warmly seconded 
and persistently pushed by the Louisiana delegation 
in Congress. In 1884 a bill, introduced by Hon. 
A. B. Irion, was passed giving the university the use 
of the grounds and buildings, and in 1902 a bill, 
introduced by Hon. S. M. Robertson, was passed 
making a complete donation of the property to the 
university for all time. 

General Sherman died in 1891 and Colonel Boyd 
in 1899. Though dead, yet at "L. S. U." they still 
live. A beautiful memorial hall, erected by the 
alumni of the university in memory of David French 
Boyd, adorns the grounds; and in the assembly hall, 
side by side with those of Robert E. Lee and Stone- 
wall Jackson, hangs a life-size portrait of William 
Tecumseh Sherman.* 

* The present President of the university is Col. Thos. D. Boyd, a 
younger brother of Col. D. F. Boyd, and under his able administration 
the institution has had a remarkable growth every way — in buildings, 
equipments, and attendance; in colleges of arts and sciences, agriculture, 
and engineering, and in schools of law, sugar, and pedagogy. 







CHAPTER VIII 
THE STORY OF THE CLOSE OF THE WAR 

Cheerful Endurance 

In a speech just before the war a secessionist 
said, "The South can whip the North with popguns." 
Just after the war the speaker was derisively re- 
minded of his boast. Not in the least abashed the 
old stager replied: "We could have done it, but 
they wouldn't fight us that way." 

A Georgian, returning from the war, consoled 
himself with this reflection: " I am going home now 
and make a crop; as for the war I'm satisfied — I 
killed as many of them as they did of me." 

On his way home after the surrender a "Johnnie 
Reb" (Confederate) fell in with a "Bobby Link" 
(Federal), and they were having a "high old lark" 
together. 

"Johnnie," said Bobby; "we licked you." 

"You didn't," said Johnnie; "we jes wore ourselves 
out er licking you." 

Probably no part of the Civil War is more inter- 
esting, and certainly none is more pathetic, than the 

193 



194 THE STORY OF THE CLOSE OF THE WAR 




surrender of the Confederate Army and the return 
of the warworn veterans to their distant and deso- 
late homes. The 
Dixie boys' ca- 
pacity for cheer- 
f u 1 endurance, 
which had been 
their mainstay 
in the toils and 
privations of 
camp and field, 
was now the one 
bright star in the rayless night settling over the 
Southern states. 

Every resource of the South had been taxed to 
the point of exhaustion. With her 600,000 men she 
had met the 2,750,000 of the North, fought over 
every foot of her soil, and protracted the struggle 
until more than half her forces were slain, disabled, 
or imprisoned. Many sections of Dixie, having 
been tramped over by both armies and swept 
by fire and sword for four years, might now an- 
swer to Sheridan's description of the Shenandoah 
Valley: 

*'The crow that flies over it must carry his rations 
with him." 

Yet when the end came the men stacked their 




Doctor James W. Nicholson 



CLOSING SCENES 195 

guns in sadness but not in tears or bitterness. Re- 
turning to their homes they found their houses in 
ruins, their farms destroyed, their slaves freed, 
their stock killed, and their yards and gardens over- 
grown with weeds. What then and there occurred 
is well told by the eloquent Grady: 

"What does he do — this hero in gray with a heart 
of gold? Does he sit down in sullenness and despair? 
Not for a day. The soldier stepped from the trenches 
into the furrow; horses that had charged Federal 
guns marched before the plow, and fields that ran 
red with human blood in April were green with the 
harvest in June. Cheerfulness and frankness sweet- 
ened the energy which made bricks without straw 
and spread splendor amid the ashes of their war- 
wasted homes." 

Closing Scenes 

The last battle in which the 12th took part was 
the one at Bentonville, North Carolina (March 20, 
1865). On the retreat from there it passed through 
Raleigh, and here the men heard of the surrender 
of General Lee (April 9, 1865). A deep gloom like an 
ominous cloud fell on the troops — they had reached 
the climax of "the ever deepening tragedy of war." 
Legweary and footsore they plodded on toward 

STORIES OF DIXIE. — 13 



196 THE STORY OF THE CLOSE OF THE WAR 



Greensboro. Their sad plight was the more touching 
because of their tattered garb and empty haver- 
sacks. 

Never did the men stand in greater need of re- 
animation; and with the want there came, as usual, 
"the doctor." This time it was the Reverend Mr. 
Pepper, Presbyterian chaplain of a Mississippi regi- 
ment. Everybody loved "Brother Pepper " 
because of his helpfulness, wit, gaiety, and 
goodness. He had somewhere picked up 
what appeared to be the skeleton of an old 
swaybacked horse. This animal's neck and 
back formed a deep concave arc, the high- 
est points being his ears and the root 
of his tail. The regiment having 
stopped for a short rest, the men 
were lying on the grass by the road- 
side when Brother Pepper came along 
on old "traveler," without saddle or 
bridle. 





CLOSING SCENES 



197 



At once a regular fusillade poured on him from the 
ranks. 

"Hello, parson, how did you make the raise?" 

"Say, Brother Pepper, is that a horse or a kan- 
garoo? Come out of that fork, old man, I know you 
are in there, because I see your feet." 

"Look here. Brother Pepper, is that the war 
horse you're going to charge 'em on?" 

"Gentlemen," said the preacher, "one question 
at a time, if you please." 

"Brother Pepper, what I'd like to know is this, 
how much is passage?" 

"Now, Jim," 10 replied the 
chaplain, "if you are really 
tired of walking, and will give 
me a dollar for my services, 
I'll teach you how to pace." 

Nick, having served in the 
Army of Tennessee, never saw 
General Lee, yet felt as if he 
knew him personally. How 
many times had he been 
cheered by the news, "Lee 
has whipped 'em again." In 
every camp and home of Dixie during the war the 
main theme of conversation and the chief object of 
adoration, was "Mars Robert." Never was a man 




198 THE STORY OF THE CLOSE OF THE WAR 

more idolized by soldiers and citizens. Their confi- 
dence in him as a commander and their esteem for 
him as a man were boundless. With them, as so 
graphically stated by Hon. Benjamin Hill: "He pos- 
sessed every virtue of other commanders without 
their vices — a foe without hate, a soldier without 
cruelty, a victor without oppression, and a victim 
without murmuring; — as gentle as a woman in life, 
and grand in battle as Achilles." 

In a word, he was the ideal of the South; and while 
this is high praise of him it is none the less eulogistic 
of the people of Dixie, for a real artist is an artist 
only to those who are themselves more or less artists. 
They must have had something of the same high 
elements of character. 

To this may . be ascribed the achievements so 
forcibly and classically described by the gifted 
Thomas Nelson Page: 

"The South produced a people whose heroic fight 
against the forces of the world has enriched the an- 
nals of the human race, and whose fortitude in de- 
feat has been more splendid than their valor in 
war." 

The 12th belonged to that part of the Army of 
Tennessee which was surrendered at Greensboro, 
North Carolina, April 26, 1865. The capitulation 
of these two main armies of the South brought the 



CLOSING SCENES 199 

war to a close. What battles had been fought! 
What thousands had been slain! What countless 
sums had been expended! The deeds of heroism on 
both sides have probably never been surpassed in 
all the annals of warfare. Surely both sides thought 
they had something to fight for. 

What was it all about? Something smacking of 
real intelligence and patriotism now warns the 
writer to be careful what he says. There is such a 
thing as "the pot calling the kettle black." Few 
have been the quarrels in this world in which both 
parties were not to some extent blamable. The 
kind of man that makes one ashamed of the national 
melting pot is he who " searches the Bible for passages 
which may be interpreted as sure damnation for his 
enemies and sure glory for himself." "Charity is 
the first breath of real heaven that men and women 
feel here on earth." 

They were all Americans— the products of our 
republican ideals and institutions— and all "fought 
for the right as God gave them to see the right." 
The valor, fortitude, and disinterestedness of both 
sides is the glorious heritage of the American people. 
That from which we should draw the greatest hope 
and promise, and in which we should feel the greatest 
pride and pleasure, is the assurance that Americans, 
North and South, are formed of the clay out of which 



200 THE STORY OF THE CLOSE OF THE WAR 

the best soldiers and citizens are fashioned by the 
hands of the Great Potter. 

In the fullness of time there may be erected in 
Washington, District of Columbia, a joint monu- 
ment to Grant and Lee, built by the free offerings 
of the people of all sections of our great country and 
in appreciation of the splendid products of our re- 
publican institutions. So mote it be. 

The Fortunes of an Old Flag 

Anyone who has served in an army that has 
fought many battles and borne many hardships 
knows how much the men come to prize and love 
their flag. With them it is a companion that has 
shared their joys and sorrows, cheered them in the 
sunshine of triumph, and consoled them in the shad- 
ows of adversity. It is prized by them, not merely 
as the emblem of their country, but also as a member 
of the family, and the more so if the men and the 
flag have grown old together in the service and are 
alike weather-stained and battle-scarred. 

That the men of the 12th had this feeling for 
their flag is shown by the following incident. When 
it became known that the regiment was to be sur- 
rendered, Leon,^^ the adjutant, began to devise some 
plan by which the dlear old flag might be kept from 



THE FORTUNES OF AN OLD FLAG 



201 



falling into the hands of strangers. He mentioned 
the matter to a few of his friends, one of whom was 
Nick. 

The interest of the men was at' once awakened, 
and they began to suggest ways 
by which it could be done. The 
following will show the plan 
agreed upon. That night they 
went quietly, one by one, to a 
nearby woodland; and, having 
concealed themselves in a dense 
copse, they took off Leon's 
clothes, and wrapped and pinned 
the flag closely around his body. 
Leon was a thin bony fellow and 
did not look unduly large when 
he put his clothes on over the 
flag. 

The next day the regiment 
was surrendered, but the flag 
could nowhere be found. The 
colonel (Graham) was much in- 
censed, but his threats and ap- 
peals were alike unavailing. Leon thus carried the 
flag to his distant home in Bastrop, Louisiana, 
where he guarded and preserved it for many, many 
years. In the course of time the Memorial Hall in 




202 THE STORY OF THE CLOSE OF THE WAR 

New Orleans was built for the preservation of just 
such relics. To this beautiful hall Leon consigned 
the flag, and there it has been ever since. The 
sequel of this story may not be uninteresting: 

Forty-two years after the surrender, when Hon. 
N. C. Blanchard was governor of Louisiana, the 
flags captured from the Confederates were returned 
to the several Southern states. Extensive prepara- 
tions were made in New Orleans for the reception 
of these now mute emblems of American valor 
and good will. The governor was to be present and 
receive the flags in behalf of the state. It so happened 
at the last moment that he could not go, and he 
asked Nick to go in his place. 

In the presence of a large assembly in Memorial 
Hall, Nick took the flags, one at a time, from the 
box in which they had been carefully packed and 
shipped, and read their descriptions as given by the 
adjutant general. Great applause followed each 
announcement, and continued as the curator bore 
the flag to its assigned position. Thus, as Nick said, 
"In this Southern Pantheon they have taken their 
places in the silent assembly over which hover 
the legends and story of Dixie, its ideals and its 
chivalry." 

"In conclusion," said he, "for one reason it is well 
that the governor asked me to represent him on this 



THE CURTAIN FALLS 203 

occasion, and that one reason makes my presence 
here somewhat of a coincidence. You have probably 
noticed that the flag of the 12th regiment was 'not 
present or accounted for ' in this consignment. It 
so happens that I can explain the cause of its ab- 
sence." 

Then he pointed to the old flag in question and 
told its interesting history. 

The Curtain Falls on a Scene both Sad and Droll 

Of the one thousand two hundred men that had 
belonged to the 12th from first to last only about 
one hundred seventy-five were left to be surrendered, 
and many of these were sick, feeble, or maimed. It 
soon became known that the surgeon would examine 
the men and report such as were unable to walk 
to their far-away homes in Louisiana. These were 
to be given transportation by rail, and all the others — - 
the strong and healthy — would have "to foot it." 

"Nii^k," said Oat, "I believe I'm taking the 
rheumatism." 

"Why," asked Nick, "do you select rheumatism 
instead of some other disease?" 

"Because," said Oat, "the doctor can't tell from 
a fellow's pulse, or tongue, or temperature whether 
he is lying or not." 



204 THE STORY OF THE CLOSE OF THE WAR 

Oat's purpose was to have some fun as well as to 
get a long ride. 

When the drum beat for the sick to fall in for the 
examination, Oat, with one leg bent at the knee and 
one arm at the elbow, hobbled along on a stout 
stick as if in great pain. He took his place in the 
long line of men enfeebled by disease or bullets. 




Tottering in weakness and in rags these grim war- 
riors of many a well-fought field were pitiable to 
behold, and, as the surgeon drew near, the most 
forlorn phenomenon of the whole line was Oat. 

On reaching Oat the surgeon asked, "What is 
the matter with you.^^" 

"Got the rheumatism," said Oat. 

"Where is it located.^^" inquired the doctor. 



THE CURTAIN FALLS 205 

"Mostly in my joints, but there is also a pain in 
my back as long and wide as the blade of a saw." 

He played the role so cleverly that he obtained a 
pass to ride* and so comically that it put the whole 
camp to laughing, and thus changed the gloomy 
occasion into a very pleasant affair. 

*To show how poor were the means for travehng by rail we 
will run ahead of our story, and relate a strange coincidence. 

Among those who secured permits to go by rail on account 
of disabilities were Mark^^ and William, 20 and these were home- 
neighbors of Nick. On May 2, Nick, in bidding them good-bye, 
said, "Tell my people I am well, and will get home sometime. 

One month afterwards, June 2, Nick and his party, on their 
way home, were ascending the Mississippi River, riding on the 
hurricane-deck of a steamboat. On reachmg the mouth of Red 
River Nick remarked, "See, Mac, our boat, instead of turning 
into the Red, seems to be going to the Mississippi side." Mac, 
looking ahead, saw two men standing on the Mississippi shore, 
and replied, "I reckon she is going over to take those two fellows 
aboard." Sure enough, the boat landed, and as the two men 
started aboard Nick exclaimed, "Look, Mac, 'for the life of me, 
it is Mark and William. What a singular coincidence! 

Such was the condition of the railroads that it took Mark 
and William one month to go from Greensboro to Vicksburg. 
At that time the river was very high, and, the levees being 
destroyed, the entire Mississippi bottom was buried beneath a 
great overflow. So the two wayfarers could reach home from 
Vicksburg only by descending the Mississippi River and ascend- 
ing the Red. They arrived at the Red just in time to catch the 
boat on which was their regiment. 

There are probably few other instances in which pedestrians 
kept pace with railroad trains for a distance of a thousand miles. 



CHAPTER IX 
THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 

The Remnant Starts Home 

When those on the "sick hst" had been given 
passes there were left in the 12th about seventy 
well men who had to make their way home as best 
they could. They regarded the long tramp with less 
aversion than one would at first imagine. "They 
had been schooled," as Joe said, "in toils and hard- 
ships until they could walk like horses, endure like 
oxen, and sleep anywhere that alligators could." 
Furthermore, they would have no loads to carry 
except an old blanket apiece, and, being free from 
military restraints, could go as they pleased. 

On the third day of May they turned their faces 
westward, Nick being one of the party, and with 
only $1.10 apiece (their part of the Confederate 
treasury) they started on the long journey across 
North Carolina, South Carolina,, Georgia, Alabama, 
Mississippi, and into Louisiana. As a rule they trav- 
eled about thirty miles per day. Their movements 
showed a striking example of the force of habit. So 

206 



THE REMNANT STARTS HOME 



207 



accustomed were they to marching in order, that, no 
matter how they started, they would soon be walking 
with the step in 
files of twos or 
fours. 

Their chief want 
was something to 
eat. It was prob- 
ably Tom ^^ who 
described them as 
being "too poor to 
buy, too proud to 
beg, and too honest 
to steal." So they 
were in a bad fix. 
However, the Fed- 
eral provost marshals in the larger towns issued 
them "small rations of hardtack and pickled pork." 
The ladies along the way were always anxious to help 
them, but they were often as destitute as the soldiers 
themselves. Every place bore mute but eloquent 
testimony to the ravages of war. Often the fields 
and gardens were destroyed, and not a cow, hog, 
or chicken could be seen about the wasted homes. 
Fortunately, black berries were ripening along the 
roadside, and these helped to allay the pangs of 
hunger. 




208 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 



A Great Southern Leader 

Their route is indicated by the following towns, 
through which they passed : Salisbury and Charlotte, 
North Carolina, Union and Abbeville, South Caro- 
lina, Atlanta and LaGrange, Georgia, and Opelika 
and Montgomery, Alabama. 

Near Abbeville they loitered for some time about 
the boyhood home of John C. Calhoun. A halo 
of memories seemed to hover over and illumine every 
spot on which the boy once romped, laughed, and 
mused. Amid the reflections suggested by these 
scenes one is reminded of the large number of great 
men who were reared in the country. Washington, 
Jefferson, and Madison, Calhoun, Clay and Webster, 
Lincoln, Davis, and Lee, and many other truly 
great men were country-raised boys. Behind the 
simple and potential strength of all these men lay 
the forces which were molded in youth by the toils 
and lessons, tonics and inspirations, of country life. 

Although Nick (or rather his people) did not 
belong to the political party of which Calhoun was 
the leader and the exponent, nor wholly indorsed his 
views of slavery, yet no one surpassed Nick in ap- 
preciation of the mental force and moral integrity 
of the great South Carolinian. As Mr. Davis says, 



A GREAT SOUTHERN LEADER 209 

"His prophetic warnings speak from the grave with 
the wisdom of inspiration." It was a beautiful 
tribute paid him by Daniel Webster, his greatest 
political rival, though his personal friend: "There 
was nothing groveling, or low, or meanly selfish, 
that came near the head or the heart of Mr. Cal- 
houn." 

Probably the most memorable event in the life of 
Calhoun was the debate between him and Webster 
on the character of the Federal Government. What 
many of the thoughtful and conservative men of the 
South thought of that debate and of the two partici- 
pants is briefly expressed in the following extract 
from an address delivered by Nick in 1912 on the 
occasion of the Commencement Exercises of the 
Louisiana State Normal School. The speaker in 
discussing the function and potentiality of the 
imagination, and the importance of training it, 
said, 

"The great historian is not he who merely garners 
the facts and statistics of the past and presents 
them in a logical and chronological order, but 
he who takes these facts and by an exuberant and 
constructive imagination breathes into them the 
breath of life. He reproduces the motives and 
spirit of the past and transports the reader into its 
joys and its sorrows. He not only articulates its 



210 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 

dry bones, but he puts flesh upon them and sends 
the warm blood coursing through the veins. 

"We need not revert to other times or chmes for a 
striking instance of the potentiahty of a trained and 
constructive imagination. We have one in the history 
of our own country. Calhoun and Webster were 
great orators and statesmen. Calhoun excelled in 
logic and Webster in imagination. The memorable 
debate between these two intellectual giants on the 
character of the Federal Government shook the 
nation from center to circumference. It was a battle 
royal between facts fortified by logic on the one side 
and facts vitalized by imagination on the other. 
Thirty years thereafter the issue was decided by 
the arbitrament of battle, and logic went down under 
the onward sweep of imagination." 

An Old-Time Southern Aristocrat 

Having strolled on ahead of the rest of the party 
Nick crossed the Savannah River all alone, and im- 
mediately left the main road in search of food. 
Really he had learned what it is to be hungry. How 
different is the ordinary craving for food from that 
produced by months of poor and insufficient nutri- 
ment. To persons who have felt only the former, 
the "pangs of hunger" are utterly meaningless 



AN OLD-TIME SOUTHERN ARISTOCRAT 211 



words. Hunger such as the Confederates often 
endured, is, as Eggleston says, "the great, despairing 
cry of a wasting 
body — an agony of 
the whole body 
and soul as well." 
Nick approach- 
ed a dwelling which 
had evidently seen 
better days. It 
appeared to be de- 
serted except by 
the swallows that 
fluttered about the 
old weatherstained 
columns. In response to his 




venerable 
She wore 



hello" a 
old lady came out on the front gallery, 
a home spun dress and a frilled cap. In her face 
and bearing there was something familiar to Nick — 
an expression that he had known. "Probably," 
thought he, "I have seen her before." No; what 
he recognized was merely the common mark of a 
typical Southern woman of the upper class. 

She was a so-called "Southern Aristocrat." But 
Nick knew, and all her neighbors knew, that her 
aristocracy was one of nobility rather than of wealth, 
fortune, and rank. From that home comfort and 

STORIES OF DIXIE. — 14 



212 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 

luxurj^ might depart but the sweet ministrations of 
culture and refinement never. No one could ap- 
proach her with undue familiarity, yet her inter- 
course with the prince and the pauper, the master 
and the slave, was marked by the gentlest courtesies. 
While she was proud, hers was a heart that could 
reach down to the suffering and hold poor little dying 
babes on her breast. In her face was a firmness 
which was as soft as velvet and yet as inflexible as 
steel. Her face had a haggard look, such a look as 
comes from toil, anxiety, and scanty food, but be- 
hind it all was a fortitude that toil could not chill nor 
privations shatter. Her husband and older sons had 
perished in battle, and the fruits of their toil and 
thrift were perishing around her; but for all that she 
bore herself with a brave composure. In the throes 
of impending disasters she might lose all, — might go 
to the stake or to penury, — but she would meet it 
supported by the serene and supreme conviction that 
she was a lady. 

It was a part of her creed to consider no woman 
refined who does not naturally avoid the society 
of men; Nick knew this, but he also knew that she 
would not be unladylike even to a stranger or a 
beggar. Lifting his cap he approached her rever- 
ently but with the utmost freedom. Gently touching 
his hand she said, "My dear boy, you are hungry; 



AN OLD-TIME SOUTHERN ARISTOCRAT 213 



come with me into the dining room." His clothes 
were ragged and his shoes tied together with strings; 
but that made no 
difference with her, 
provided only that 
he was a gentleman. 

Arriving at the 
table she lifted an 
immaculate white 
cloth and thus un- 
covered a few pones 
of corn bread and 
two roasted squir- 
rels. To these she 
helped Nick bounti- 
fully, but made no ^ 
apology for the coarse and scanty fare. With a well- 
balanced mixture of mirth and sadness she chatted 
of current events, but not a word of her ow n troubles 
was spoken. Nor did she refer to a recent raid of 
some "Yankee plunderers" who had stripped her of 
her silverware and heirlooms. 

As Nick was leaving she hailed a passing negro 
and said to him kindly, ''Henry, please show this 
gentleman the near way back to the main road." 
With his head bowed in reverence and meditation 
Nick walked slowly away. "I wonder," mused he, 




214 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 

"if any country ever produced a nobler race of 
women than the South? For courage, fortitude, 
and high ideals they surel}^ have never been sur- 
passed. At home and in the hospital, in camp and 
on the battle field, their heroic, self-sacrificing, and 
merciful deeds during this terrible war will never be 
fully known 'until the angels make their report.'" 

A Few Great Georgians 

Amid the ruins of Atlanta, Hon. A. H. Stephens, 
ex-vice president of the Confederacy, was strolling 
about under the escort of a Federal guard. He had 
just been arrested by order of the national govern- 
ment, and was then being taken to trial for " treason" 
against his country. It was a sad and a ludicrous 
sight. Bodily he was so small he looked like a boy, 
and his guard so large that he looked like a giant. 
Nick was reminded by the scene of a rather noted 
incident that happened some years before the war. 

On the occasion referred to, Stephens and Judge 

were opposing speakers in some political 

controversy. The latter, being a very large man and 
wishing to discredit the former by making sport of 
his littleness, said, 

"If his head were greased and his ears pinned 
back I could swallow him." 



A FEW GREAT GEORGIANS 215 

"Probably you could," retorted the little man, 
"but if you did you would have more brains in your 
stomach than in your head." 

Many of the people Nick had known, including 
his father and mother, were Georgians by birth, and 
a Georgian, wherever found, seldom tires of extolling 
the glories of the "Cracker State." Therefore, 
Nick had heard much of the "big men" of this grand 
old commonwealth, especially the "trio," Stephens, 
Hill, and Toombs. These, so thought and claimed 
many Georgians, were the peers of Clay, Calhoun, 
and Webster. In this, as in many other cases, there 
may be a difference between "Mirabeau judged 
by his friends and Mirabeau judged by the people." 
But waiving all invidious comparisons, there are 
few who will deny that, in the skill and power of 
oratory, in felicity of expression and exuberance of 
thought, in logic and imaginative force, the Georgia 
Trio was hard to beat. 

Henry W. Grady, himself a later Georgian who 
"reached the high water mark of modern oratory," 
said: 

"The wisest speech, and the ablest ever made by 
an American, in my opinion, is Mr. Toombs's 
speech on slavery, delivered in Boston about ten 
years before the war. In that speech he showed a 
prescience almost divine, and clad in the light of 



216 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 

thirty years of confirmation, it is simply marvel- 
ous." 

"Who saves his country, saves all things, and all 
things saved will bless him. Who lets his country 
die, lets all things die, and all things dying curse 
him." 

In the city of Atlanta this literary gem is graven 
on the statue of its author, Benjamin H. Hill, and 
in the "garden of literature" there is probably not 
a richer fruit or a flower more beautiful. 

Hill's tribute to Lee is no less a mosaic than an 
epic: 

. "He was Caesar, without his ambition; Frederick, 
without his tyranny; Napoleon, without his selfish- 
ness; and W^ashington, without his reward. He was 
a foe without hate, a friend without treachery, a 
soldier without cruelty, a victor without oppression, 
and a victim without murmuring." 

In opposition to secession Stephens led the "union- 
ists." In the midst of the momentous issues that 
confronted the people, the secessionists and unionists 
were earnestly looking for light to guide them in 
that hour of travail and uncertainty. By request, 
Mr. Toombs, a leading secessionist, addressed the 
General Assembly of Georgia one evening and 
Stephens addressed it the next (November 14, 1860.) 
Both delivered masterpieces of oratory. The follow- 



A FEW GREAT GEORGIANS 217 

ing excerpts from the speech of the latter are no less 
important lessons to-day than when delivered: 

Speaking of the benefits of the government under 
which we have lived and prospered Mr. Stephens 
said: "They are so silent and unseen that they are 
seldom thought of or appreciated. The influence of 
the government on us is like that of the atmosphere 
around us. We seldom think of the single element 
of oxygen in the air we breathe, and yet, let this sim- 
ple, unseen, and unfelt agent be withdrawn, this 
life-giving element be taken away from this all- 
pervading fluid around us, and what instant and 
appalling changes would take place in all organic 
creation." 

In illustrating how hard, if not impossible, it is to 
restore the civic virtues and institutions of a country 
when once they have been destroyed, he thus cited 
the case of Greece: 

"Descendants of the same people inhabit the 
country; yet what a mighty difference. In the 
midst of present degradation we see the glorious 
fragments of ancient works of art — temples with 
ornaments and inscriptions that excite wonder and 
admiration, the remains of a once high order of 
civilization which have outlived the language they 
spoke. Upon them all Ichabod is written — their 
glory has departed. Why is this so? I answer thus. 



218 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 



their institutions have 
were but the fruits of 




m 



been destroyed. These 
their forms of govern- 
ment, the matrix from 
which their grand de- 
velopment sprung; 
and when once the 
institutions of our 
people shall have 
been destro^^ed, there 
is no earthly power 
that can bring back 
the Promethean spark 
to kindle them here 
again, any more than 
eloquence, poetry, and 



that ancient land of 
song." 

Like many other great men Stephens was simple 
and informal in his manners, and so freely did he 
intermingle with all classes that he was widely 
known as "the great commoner." Mac ^^ and Nick 
greatly desired to see him at close range and hear 
him talk. Knowing how accessible he was they were 
emboldened to approach him, and, with permission 
of the guard, they did so, and were received with a 
smile, hearty handshakes, and "I am delighted to 
meet you." 

There was something in his expression which be- 



A FEW GREAT GEORGIANS 219 

spoke anxiety and suffering, yet he talked cheerfully 
and soon put the boys at their ease. He asked them 
to tell him of their surrender, and drew from them 
much of the details of their long tramp from North 
Carolina to Georgia. As he laughed at the ludicrous 
descriptions of their ups and downs, Nick wondered 
how a man confronted with such serious concerns 
as he was could let his mind dwell on such light 
matters. 

As to his own troubles — his impending trial and 
the result — he manifested but little solicitude, but 
of pubHc ills he had grave forebodings. 

Referring to the results of the war — the subversion 
of the industrial, economic, and social conditions and 
affairs of the South— "They are bound," said he, 
"to bring great hardships on the Southern people, 
and these will now be aggravated by the unfortunate 
death of Mr. Lincoln. Had he lived I doubt not 
that he, now that his main purpose of preserving the 
Union has been accomplished, would have sym- 
pathized with the South in her prostration and 
poverty, and sought to aid her in the readjustment 
of her affairs and in the rehabilitation of all the forces 
and agencies of peace and prosperity." 

"Unfortunately," said he, "in stormy times like 
these the direction of public affairs so often falls into 
the hands of radicals — men of ultra feelings and 



220 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 

views. I fear that we are headed towards trouble; 
the forces now dominating society are not such 
as brought peace on earth and good will to 
men." 

"Mac," said Nick as they walked away, "did you 
notice how far above all petty spite and littleness 
he is.^" 

"Let me answer that question by asking another," 
said Mac. "Is that not always the case with one 
who has the courage of a soldier and the instincts of 
a gentleman.^" 

One of the many other fine characters of Georgia 
was General J. B. Gordon. Such was Nick's high 
appreciation of him that he named his firstborn 
son "Gordon." 

"My dear young friend," once said the general 
to Nick, "while I thank you for the compliment, 
I would warn you to be careful about naming your 
sons after me and my folks. We are all Southern 
men of the old school." 

"General," inquired Nick, "what is your idea of a 
man of that type.^^" 

"Well," rephed the general, "he won't lie nor he 
won't steal, but everything else will he do." 

General Gordon was fond of a good story, and 
few surpassed him in the art of telling one. En- 
tertaining a crowd one day he said: 



A FEW GREAT GEORGIANS 221 

"These Episcopal bishops are usually broad 
gauged fellows and have the saving grace of 
good humor. One of this kind was once travel- 
ing through the country and came upon a clever 
though illiterate ^^ 

asked the bishop, .^^^^^^ l^;:flHf 

*what church do C*^^^^^^ ^fy^'y!^ 

" ' Who confirmed |^lf||nKi ^^^Jf^l. 

bishop. 

" ' Han't never been er— 'firmed, that I'se heard of.' 
" ' Tell me, my dear sir, how you became an epis- 
copalian.' 

'' ' Well, it was this way. Some friends in the city 
asked me to come to see 'em; I went, and while 
there we all went to meetin' at the 'Piscopal Church. 
The main thing I heard 'em say was this: We've 
been doin' er mighty sight er things which we hadn't 
ought er do, and we've been leavin' undone er mighty 
sight er things which we had ought er do; then I 
said to myself, that's me; and ever since then I've 
been a 'piscopal.' " 



222 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 

"I reckon," added the General, "we are all more 
or less 'piscopals." 

Nick was reminded of this story and its moral 
quite recently in reading a good book in which he 
found this: "If we all faced the truth about things, 
instead of sheltering ourselves in deceptions, perhaps 
the world would begin to improve." 

And also this: "What fakirs we are — if anyone 
confesses to us things not half as bad as what we 
ourselves do or think, how often do we set that one 
down as a living, breathing atrocity." 

A Long and Jolly Ride 

The extended tramp across the defunct Confeder- 
acy, so fraught as we have seen with toils and pri- 
vations and clouded by the shadows of present and 
impending troubles, was not devoid of enjoyable 
scenes and experiences. One of the places ever 
remembered by the wayfarers as an "oasis in the 
desert" is Opelika, Alabama. Hearing of the hunger 
of these homewardbound boys the ladies of that then 
small village hastily made a table of goods boxes, 
and on it spread such articles of food as their meager 
larders could supply. Placed in the shade of the 
oaks and surrounded by a bevy of charming women 
it was a pretty sight, such a one as the poor fellows 



A LONG AND JOLLY RIDE 



223 



had not seen in many a day. Never did men eat 
more heartily or ravenously. The ladies smiled as 
they watched the performance, and doubtless ex- 
cused the boys for their want of politeness in not 
leaving a crumb or scarcely a bone on the table. 

"It never rains that it doesn't pour," is sometimes 
as true of pleasures as of trou- 
bles. Immediately after the 
good breakfast came a long 
ride which was as unexpected 
as it was joyous and restful. 
On account of the devastations 
wrought by first one army and 
then by the other the railroad 
running through Opelika 
to Montgomery had not 
been in use for some 
time. Parts of the track 
and many of the bridg 
were destroyed, a i 
what remained of the 
track was in places 
nearly hi d d e n by 
growing grass and 
weeds. 

At Opelika " ^ 
one old rick- ~ 




224 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 

ety box car was left, and Nick, noticing that the 
roadbed had a considerable down grade, said, "Boys, 
let's put our coats and blankets in this car, shove 
her off, and take a ride." The suggestion was ac- 
cepted with great hilarity. 

In went the luggage and off went the car. When 
once well started on the downgrade it was propelled 
by the force of gravity; then the men leaped into 
and upon it. The further it went the greater was its 
speed, so that its momentum at the end of the down- 
grade carried it far up the next upgrade. The riders 
were in a fever of excitement. The episode thrilled 
them with delight and with suggestions and expecta- 
tions of greater things. 

At once it was agreed "to charter the train" for 
the rest of the trip, push it along at the upgrades and 
ride in it over the downgrades. Fortunately Opelika 
has a much greater elevation than Montgomery; 
knowing this, Nick exclaimed, "Boys, there is going 
to be more riding than pushing." 

"Attention!" ordered Mac. "I move we elect 
Nick conductor." The motion having prevailed, 
Nick took charge and immediately issued General 
Order, No. I: 

I. The battalion will be formed into two equal 
squads; and the squads will go on duty alternately 
every half hour. 



A LONG AND JOLLY RIDE 225 

IL Sergeant Guthrie * is hereby appointed Adju- 
tant; he will proceed at once to form the squads and 
put the caravan agoing. 

Yielding to the united pushing of about twenty- 
five men the train rolled along slowly until it reached 
the next downgrade; then, with all hands aboard, 
it moved off as if imbued with life, singing faster and 
faster its cheerful song of " clat-er-te-rack, clat-er-te- 
rack" as it went diving through the deep cuts and 
sailing over the high embankments. It was a jolly 
affair, and what the car lacked of making as much 
noise as any other train was more than made up by 
the laughing and yelling of the "passengers." 

There had been no traffic on this road for several 
weeks, and the people living along the quiet route, 
as one can well imagine, were startled by such an 
unusual racket and appalling uproar. They rushed 
out of houses and fields to see what it was, and 
having ascertained the cause enjoyed the frolic 
as much as the boys themselves. As the singular 
phenomenon, having "no pushee and no puUee," 
approached Loachapoka a crowd was seen gathering 
at the depot. Responding to a signal from the crowd 
the speed of the car was slackened, and in the midst 
of much cheering and waving of hats and hand- 

* Guthrie was the old hospital steward, and the only man in the party 
who had even the semblance of a watch. 



226 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 

kerchiefs, the "train" rolled slowly up to the station. 
The boys were now standing on top of the car, and 
between them and the crowd there opened up a 
regular fusillade — not one of firearms, but of ques- 
tions, answers, jokes, and expressions of good will. 

Before leaving this pleasant place the travelers 
were informed of the destruction of the bridge over 
the river a few miles ahead of them. This timely 
warning probably saved their lives, for it was down- 
grade all the way from there to the river. 

Many years after that event, Nick met an old 
man who lived in that locality. He (the old man) 
related the incident, and turning to Nick said, 

"By the way, it has just occurred to me that they 
were from your state, and no doubt you have heard 
of the event before." 

"Yes, my friend," said Nick, "that was the only 
train of which I ever had the honor of being the con- 
ductor." 

More Surprises 

A few miles east of Montgomery is Mount Meigs, 
and near this little village "Company Q," as our 
happy-go-lucky wayfarers styled themselves, came 
upon a mulberry orchard. It appeared to contain 
several acres, and the trees bore a harvest of tempt- 



MORE SURPRISES 



227 




ing ripe fruit. Never had the boys seen a cultivated 
crop of that kind before, and to them a special 
feature of the ^^ 
novelty was the ^^^ 
varied colors of 
the berries. 

But however 
attractive the 
scene to the eyes 
of that hungry 
crowd it was their 
stomachs that 
were most interested in the outlook. As a rule, they 
did not enter gardens without leave; but on that oc- 
casion the writer does not remember whether they 
obtained permission to invade the orchard or not. 
He does recall a statement by Tom ^^ as they resumed 
their journey: "Boys, I loaded up to the guards, 
then put up the sideboards and took on nearly as 
much more." 

Another pleasant surprise of the trip happened at 
Montgomery. On applying to the Federal officer 
in charge at that place "Company Q" was given 
free passage on a boat down the Alabama River to 
Mobile. This was a great relief, as it promised to 
shorten the long tramp by several hundred miles. 
Although the passage would be on the hurricane 



STORIES OF DIXIE. - 



15 



228 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 

deck it was better than tramping in hot weather 
through the dust and sand. 

"Mac," said Nick, "some of these Yankees are 
right good fellows after all." 

"Yes," repHed Mac, "I reckon that, on the whole, 
they are just about as good and as bad as we are. 
It is hard to see ourselves as others see us." 

"There is something harder to do than that, Mac, 
and that is to reason correctly and justly when one's 
interests and prejudices are involved." 

B-O-O-M! The boat quivered and the glass 
rattled. 

"What was that.'^" was asked by several in chorus. 

"It was an explosion of some kind," said Tom,^^ 
"and it seemed to be at some point ahead of us, 
probably Mobile." 

"Well," exclaimed Tom," ^^ I am somewhat used 
to great noises, but that beats any I ever heard, not 
excepting the bursting of the "Lady Polk" at Co- 
lumbus, Kentucky. My! That, certainly, was a 
golly-whopper. The earth trembled as if riven by an 
earthquake." 

On arriving at Mobile it was learned that in moving 
the ammunition surrendered by General Taylor a 
loaded bomb was dropped, and its bursting resulted 
in the explosion of many tons of powder. All over 
the city sheds were shaken down and panes of glass 



THE GULF AND ITS TRIBUTARY 229 

crashed by the concussion, and many people were 
said to have been buried under the ruins. 

The Gulf and its Chief Tributary 

He was a shrewd if not a wise man who said, "I 
don't often meet with disappointment, for the simple 
reason that I am not such a fool as to expect much 
from people." This accords with the beatitude, 
"Blessed is the man who expects nothing, for he 
shall not be disappointed." Company Q, being thus 
blessed, was prepared for a cheerful acceptance of 
whatever fell to its lot, be it a comfort or a discom- 
fort. This was nowhere more fully exemplified than 
in its voyage across the Gulf. 

The Federal officer in charge readily gave the men 
an order for transportation by boat to New Orleans, 
and in doing so pleasantly remarked, "I am treating 
you fellows to a delightful sea voyage." 

"For which we sincerely thank you," ventured 
Mac. 

"When you go aboard," said he, "if you see cause 
to withdraw your thanks remember it is the best 
we can do to-day in the way of a boat. However," 
continued he with a broad smile on his frank face, 
"I guess it is good enough for you rebels." 

Mac, seeing that he was chock-full of humor and 



230 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 

believing that no man thus equipped can be very 
narrow or sensitive, retorted, "Captain, we now see 
it is not true, as we have long been led to believe, 
that a smile on a Yankee's face is so unfamiliar to 
his features that they don't know how to manage it." 
At which the captain and all his office crew joined 
the "rebels" in a prolonged and hearty laugh. 

"That's a splendid fellow," said Tom,^^ as the 
boys walked away. 

On boarding the vessel it was seen to be old and 
dilapidated; and worse still, the great explosion of 
the day before had blown off the top of one of the 
wheelhouses. 

"Hello, Mac! How about the thanks.?" 

"They stand," said Mac. "This is far better than 
we're used to, and as for safety that officer is of the 
kind that would never send men where he would 
not go himself, I don't care if he is a Yankee." 

As usual the "berth" assigned the fellows was the 
hurricane deck, "thus honoring us as preferred 
guests," said the witty Ben, "by putting us above 
everybody else." The big bell tapped, the great wheel 
began churning the water, and the old craft glided out 
to sea. As she got more and more under good head- 
way the water spouted higher and higher through 
the top of the wheelhouse and poured right into the 
berth of Company Q. 



THE GULF AND ITS TRIBUTARY 231 

"Boys," again spoke Ben, " that officer was even 
more thoughtful of our welfare than we supposed; 
he knew we all needed a good washing. Think of 
it, a salt water bath!" 

Now and then brisk gales made violent onsets 
against the falling streams of water, and drove them 
in tiny jets or spray in every direction. However, 
here and there were places uninvaded by jet or 
spray, and in these dry spots the passengers huddled 
like cattle in the shade of a lone tree. Under 
such conditions the wanton expenditure of pent- 
up energy was bound to break loose. And at it they 
went — songs, jokes, pranks, and stunts of many 
descriptions. For hilarity, this water trip was un- 
surpassed even by the land trip on the "crazy 
train." 

A black waiter slipped away from below and came 
up to enjoy the show. He was at home "wid dese 
white boys," for he had romped with their kind on 
many a similar frolic. The boys "took him in" at 
once, for they also knew his kind. Sam Jones says: 
"Shooting at birds with blank cartridges is just 
about as amusing to the birds as to the boys." 
"Henry" was just the target the boys wanted for a 
good old time like they used to have around the 
"swimming hole"; and while the jokes were pretty 
rough on Henry, he would have been disappointed — 



232 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 



positively aggrieved — had he not received just such 
a mark of distinguished consideration. 

"Is yu all got enny good water fur to drink?" 
asked Henry. 

"No," said a dozen voices. 

"Den I'se gwine to fetch yu sum, but don't yu 

let dem gent'men 
down dar know 
'bout it." 

So Company Q 
was supplied with 
abundance of fresh 
cool water. As for 
food, the situation 
was thus told by 
Ben: "If we ob- 
served the same Godlike temperance in all things 
that we do in eating we might be canonized for 
saints." 

The next morning a loud and long huzza rent the 
air as the dark line of the Louisiana shore rose above 
the sea. Eyes beamed with delight, and here and 
there a rough hand brushed off a tear trickling down 
a bronzed cheek. The party boarded the old Pont- 
chartrain Railroad, along which the infant Nick 
had been carried just twenty years before. Ragged, 
hungry, and penniless, they landed in the heart of 




THE GULF AND ITS TRIBUTARY 238 

the great metropolis. Not knowing what else to do, 
they established "temporary quarters" in an old 
vacant cotton shed. But they were not long alone. 
The ladies, ever on the lookout for homeward bound 
Confederates, began moving in that direction, and 
they were not of the kind who are so much like men 
that men often forget what is due them as women. 

Embarrassed by their own unsightly garb the 
first impulse of the men on seeing the ladies was to 
hide. While "fine feathers make fine birds," the re- 
verse is not always true. Despite the aspects of raga- 
muflSns, these boys were gentlemen born and bred. 
Those elegant ladies, having no less of bonhomie 
than refinement, put the men at ease. By their 
words and manners the boys came to feel that they 
were the more appreciated for the very hardships 
of which they bore ample testimony. They were 
shown to a lavatory, where they had the joy and 
privilege of bathing like gentlemen. Then followed 
a meal consisting of such articles of food as the ladies 
already had prepared. Throughout the war the 
women of New Orleans were widely known for their 
Spartan valor, trueness to the cause, and kindnesses 
to Confederate soldiers. 

Early in the war, coffee was sometimes issued to 
the men. No company ever had more than one or 
two coffee mills, and of course these sooner or later 



234 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 




became very dull. One Sunday morning Jim was 
sitting on a log trying to grind coffee on a worn-out 
machine. 

To one of the men passing by he exclaimed, " Mat,^^ 

this is a very in- 
dustrious mill." 

"How do you 
make that out, 
:... Jim.?" 

"When it gets 

done with one grain 

it starts on another." 

Likewise, Company Q, on boarding a boat to go 

up the river, might have said, "When we get done 

with one hurricane deck we start on another." 

The old Mississippi again ! What a train of memo- 
ries the sight of it awakened ! Much of the soldiering 
of these veterans had been spent on its banks. Of 
Columbus, Island No. 10, New Madrid, Fort Pillow, 
Memphis, Vicksburg, and Port Hudson they had 
feeling recollections — pleasant and unpleasant. At 
all these points they had seen their comrades struck 
down by bullets or disease. But recollections of the 
battle's roar and the funeral march were mollified 
by remembrances of many a frolic on land and in 
the water. 

Up the Mississippi they went, thence up the Red 



THE HOME STRETCH 235 

and Ouachita Rivers into northern Louisiana. Here 
and there one, two, or more of them left the boat 
as they reached their respective landing places. With 
each departure there were cordial handshakes and 
many a "God bless you" uttered in broken voices 
and with tear-moistened eyes. Among the last to 
leave the boat was a party of about fifteen, including 
Nick, who landed at the old town of Trenton late 
in the afternoon. The place was about sixty miles 
from their homes, but this "short distance" was 
considered an easy two-days' walk. 

The Home Stretch 

In the piny woods twelve miles from Trenton is 
a beautiful branch, to which the crowd at once 
started, cheered by the prospects of a refreshing bath 
in its clear running water. The walk was strenuous, 
and after the bath they slept soundly on the green 
sward beneath the trees. With clean skins and empty 
stomachs their homeward tramp was resumed early 
in the morning. Near Douglas they halted, and 
while resting in the shade of an oak, Nick said : 

"Boys, here we come to the parting of the ways. 
The Forest Grove chaps— Mark, ^^ Tom,i^ William,^^ 
and I — will now leave the main road and take a 
short cut to our homes." 



236 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 






A shadow of sadness fell over *'this last assembly," 
and for the time there was little talking, no joking, 
no hilarity. After a bit Mac flashed into the cloud 
of gloom a ray of light and cheer with the sug- 
gestion : 

"Bo3^s, let us now agree that when any one of 
j.v.^ us gets married all the others will 

be expected to attend, without 
further invitation." 

The motion was received with 
cheers, and unanimously adopted; 
and in the months and years which 
followed Nick had the pleasure 
of seeing nearly everyone of the 
party promoted from a celibate 
to a benedict. Many of the mem- 
bers of that "last assembly" have 
crossed over the abyss that sepa- 
rates time and eternity. Of the 
few still living are Tom^^ Mat^^ 
and Tom ^\ 

The next day Nick's party 
reached the old 
Cane Ridge and 
Homer road — that 
along which Nick 
and Step had played 



""^^>p^ 




THE HOME STRETCH 237 

a long time ago (see page 84). Near the cabin in 
which they had taken refuge from the storm, 
Nick lay down in the shade and stretched out his 
weary limbs on the soft grassy sward. On a bush 
near by a wren piped its old-time song, and perched 
on the knot of a tall dead pine a woodpecker beat 
a faultless long roll. "Jay, jay, jay!" chanted a 
blue jay in a great hickory tree, while the breeze- 
swept pines filled the air with a soft melody not 
unlike the hum of a swarming colony of bees. These 
notes of the woods, so familiar to Nick in his boyhood 
days, started within him a responsive train of 
memories : 

*' Nowhere in all my ups and downs has life been so 
joyous, so blithe, and so worth while as amid the 
scenes along this road and the two old plantations 
it connects. They now hover over and envelop me 
like a delicate fragrance. The remembrance of other 
events may stir my heart, but the memory of these 
alone stirs my soul. Here all things that have been 
most important in my life had their beginning. When 
first I traveled this road my great desire was to see 
the new place; now the oldness of the same place 
appeals to me as the newness of it never did." 

Continued he, "The glory of war! What a strange 
hallucination! Except for the toil, sacrifice, and 
suffering that men endure for an ideal it is a misnomer, 



238 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 

misconception, mockery. How few of the struggling 
troops ever think of the ideals, how many know 
nothing of the great underlying causes. Reason! 
In the tenets and doings of war is a strange place to 
look for it. One might as well expect to find sweet- 
ness in a crowd of boys tussling for pennies. Often 
has a battle reminded me of the fight between the 
dogs and the cat (page 27). With little thought of 
ideals and causes, mastery was the end aimed at 
and the arts of primitive instincts the means em- 
ployed. War settles only questions of might, and 
it is a sad commentary on civilization that quarrels 
between states and nations are not adjusted by ar- 
bitration." 

It was the seventh day of June, 1865 — the thirty- 
fifth and last day of the long tramp — and a little 
after nightfall, that Nick walked up to the front 
gate of his dear old home. For many weary days 
the home folks had been watching for his coming. 
The bark of an old hound, now a stranger to the boy 
who had raised him, announced the arrival of the 
unknown. In a twinkling there was a rush in that 
direction from all quarters. Here came the whites, 
the blacks, and the dogs, each one making a racket 
of some character. In the midst of the uproar, 
with the arms of his three sisters about him, Nick 
heard Uncle Wash say, "My son! We are so glad 



THE HOME STRETCH 



239 



a* 



to see you!" which, as Nick knew, was far for his 
father to go in the way of a demonstrative greeting. 
The darkies pohtely stood aloof until the saluta- 
tions of the whites had somewhat abated. 
Good Old Uncle Nathan, unable to re- 
strain himself longer, burst in, and seiz- 
ing Nick by the arms, exclaimed, "Bless 
de Lawd fur all his mercies; de boy is 
cum back to us er man." Aunt Gallic, 
Nick's old nurse, came next, and grasping 
his hands she sobbed, "My dear baby 
boy! What fur you stay so long.? 
Yo Gallic ben waitin', watchin', and " 

prayin' fur yu all 
dese years. My! 
What a big un my 
baby is got to 




240 THE STORY OF THE HOMEWARD TRAMP 

be !" To her hand Nick held fast for the very com- 
fort to be had from that hvmg contact. One by 
one he shook hands with all the darkies, though 
so many of the younger ones had grown out of his 
knowledge, he had often to ask who they were. 

Later on, when the moon was creeping down 
behind the trees, Nick and his sister "Duck" ^^ sat 
alone on the front gallery, and in reverie watched 
the gathering shadows. Each felt that the other 
was thinking of her whose absence was the one great 
blank in the joy of Nick's home-coming. 

"Brother," said the sister, "her anxiety for you 
and the other three boys wore out her sweet life. 
Oh, the saddest day I have ever known was that in 
which I followed her dear body to the cedars in the 
old churchyard." 

Somewhere nearby a cricket chirped sadly "as if it 
were human and could understand." Likewise sang 
the katydids in an oak near the house. 

To bring back the brightness which had gone out 
of things Nick went off on a new tack, 

"Sister, how about my sleeping to-night.^ For a 
long time my bed has been a blanket spread on the 
ground with a chunk under one end of it for a pil- 
low. Really I feel that one of that kind out there 
under the trees would be the most comfortable 
bed you could give me." 



THE HOME STRETCH 241 

It was hard for him to convince her that he meant 
what he said. At last she said, "I wish you to sleep 
in the house; I can give you a hard mattress and a 
bolt of cottonade for a pillow." 

Duck smiled, and Nick smiled when he saw her 
fixing his bed that way. With a sweet caress she 
bade him good night. 

Nick stretched himself out on the hard, but to 
him comfortable, bed, and lay for a long time star- 
ing through the open window up into the night. 
The stars were shining as in the days long gone by, 
but all else, how changed. He closed his eyes and 
gradually memories of the loved and the lost sank 
to rest like the waves at sea when the storm is spent. 
*' Something in his brain, which seemed to tick the 
slow movement of time, came suddenly to a stop 
like a clock that has run down," and Nick was 
asleep. 



APPENDIX 



The names of persons called in the hook by their nicknames or 
by their Christian names. 



1. Judge W. F. Blackmail, 

Alexandria, La. 

2. John A. Tray lor, Los 

Angeles, Cal. 

3. Capt. W. A. Miller, 

Amarillo, Tex. 

4. Capt. J. L. Bond, Rus- 

ton, La. 

5. W. C. Boring, Shreve- 

port, La. 

6. B. F. Sikes, , 

Tex. 

7. H. W. Menefee, Homer, 

La. 

8. Maj. J. W. Boring, 

Longview, Tex. 

9. Capt. J. F. Taylor, 

Amarillo, Tex. 

10. James Bernard, 

IL S. W. Menefee, Cotton 

Valley, Ala. 



n. Maj. R. L. Pruyn, 
Baton Rouge, La. 

13. Capt. Leon Polk, Bast- 

rop, La. 

14. T. McEachern, Shon- 

galoo. La. 

15. Hon. A. T. Nelson, 

Homer, La. 

16. D. McD. Crow, Natchi- 

touches. La. 

17. T. J. Baker, Athens, La. 

18. Mat. Haynes, Shong- 

aloo. La. 

19. Dr. M. A. Taylor, 

Honey Grove, Tex. 

20. Wm. Martin, Sherman, 

Tex. 

21. Mrs. J. W. Willis, 

Shreveport, La. 

22. Hon. H. C. Mitchell, 

Homer, La. 



242 



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